Lotus
by Toraptor
Summary: Three souls have been reincarnated and a world of magic lay ahead. Genesis and Angeal find a family in the Weasleys, while Sephiroth is swept under the wing of Harry Potter. Their first year at Hogwarts has begun and while forgotten, invisible scars still exist, they all have something to believe in.
1. Chapter 1

01

A grand, vast sky, multitudes of stars winking in and out, blanketed over a resting world. The moon was full, momentarily blotted out by wisps of clouds, dappling Privet Drive in silver light. Calm and average Privet Drive, so unlike the cheery parties and elated folk strolling the streets that particular night. There were two worlds under the light of the moon, one in slumber while the other remained in secrecy.

Being the definition of normal, there were no late-night parties being held in Privet Drive. All the houses were cookie-cutter, the occupants sleeping the night away. In the morning, they would wake up, go to work or school, completely unaware that their peaceful, normal lives had been saved.

That night, Privet Drive had the honor of being a part of something quite unusual, as every single streetlamp had its light stolen. Systematically, globules of light drifted from the tops of tall metal beams, zooming through the air into a small hand-held devise. Within seconds, Privet Drive was immersed in darkness. If a sleepless man or woman was to peek out a window, they wouldn't see a single thing. It was for the best that no random insomniac could witness what was about to occur, because this night had already left the safe realm of normal.

An old man strode down the drive, slipping the hand-held devise housing the streetlamp's light into a pocket. Just by himself, the man was an oddity. From his periwinkle robes, stitched with silver moons and suns, to the half-moon glasses perched on his crooked nose, he was just the unusual sort of character that Privet Drive despised. Bright blue eyes twinkled behind the spectacles, his hair long and white under a pointed hat.

This was a man with a mission.

"What're they gonna do with him?" asked a male voice.

"Give him I good home, I hope," came a young woman's voice in reply.

"I dunno, Aerith," said the young man. "Those people in Number Four . . . they're kinda not the type to accept his kind. I don't think I'd want them raising him, even if they were accepting."

Aerith hummed in agreement.

"There's nothing we can do," she murmured regretfully. "There was no way of telling something like this would happen. We did our best . . . and he'll have a "big brother" of a sorts."

"I hope we did," said the young man in a grumble. "I don't wanna get skewered."

"What about the others?" asked Aerith. "I saw you gave _him_ that book of his."

He made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat.

"Yeah, well - he wouldn't be him without that stupid poem. . . . I hope he can forgive the cliché."

Aerith's light giggle filled the air.

"Come on, Zack," she said. "We still have a lot to do and he's not even ready for this yet. We can discuss living conditions later."

"Gotcha!"

* * *

When Molly Weasley, mother of six and soon to be seven, opened the door that morning, the last thing she expected was to find two wrapped bundles at her feet.

It was early and quite cool, dew clinging to the grass outside. The chickens were clucking away in the hen house, making their presence known to the world in their attention-seeking ways. Even more insistent were the two bundles at her feet. In fact, at that moment, they were pretty much the center of the universe. Mostly because Molly Weasley couldn't tear her eyes away, locked in frozen and uncomprehending shock.

There were two infants laid at her doorstep.

One was dark-haired and watching her calmly, a small hand playing with the edge of a beige blanket. Big, crystalline blue eyes were fixed on her, although she was fairly sure they were too young to see that far. His single patch of black hair stuck up in the back, somewhat resembling a chicken's backside. It was bed head at its finest.

The other child was redheaded, equally blue eyes staring at her. Only, this baby wasn't quite so calm. In fact, the child was more or less thrashing around in a frenzy, wailing at the top of his lungs, kicking the blanket off.

Molly's heart instantly melted, before outrage settled in. She couldn't imagine what kind of horrible people would leave babies out in the cold. She reached down, awkward from the weight of her swollen stomach, and cradled the both of them in her arms. After having the twins, Fred and George, she had gotten very good at handling two children in her arms at the same time. These strange new infants were easier, because they weren't actively trying to escape her grasp.

"ARTHUR!" she yelled. "COME HERE!"

There was a thud and a slam, before Arthur Weasley came barreling down the stairs. His eyes were wide and he looked a little pale.

"Oh dear, what is it?" he asked frantically. "Are you feeling alright? Is it time? Already?"

"Look here," she said, proffering a child for him to hold. "They were – they were just _left_ there!"

Her face morphed into pity, dismayed for the poor infants.

"What kind of monster would leave two babies out on a stranger's doorstep?" she asked mournfully. Tears prickled her eyes and she knew pregnancy hormones were kicking in. That didn't make it any less _sad_. "The poor dears."

"They're cute," said Charlie as he ambled over, a _Short Tail of Dragons_ by _Nashi Dragneel_ in one hand. He had been absorbed in that particular book for a while. "Where'd you find them?"

Mrs. Weasley ignored him for favor of kneeling on protesting knees and picked up the package that lay on the ground, fumbling with it for a second, due to having only a single hand free. A red hardback book fell out, hitting the ground with a dull _thump_ and laid there innocently. She blinked at it, and then looked further into the package to ensure she didn't miss anything of importance.

There was a slip of paper. She scanned the page, her frown growing with every word before she huffed.

"I don't believe it! The nerve!" she cried out fiercely. "How could they leave their children – give them to strangers, no less?"

"What does it say?" Mr. Weasley asked, wrestling with the dark-haired boy, who seemed much stronger than an infant should be. The child was going to leave bruises on his arms. "OW! No biting, that's very bad!"

Too bad he couldn't do intimidating if his life depended on it.

"It says: ' _The annoying'_ \- oh, yes, and they're even rude to the poor things - _'redhead is named Genesis Rhapsodos. Give him the book – he can't seem to live without it. The dark-haired child is Angeal Hewley – take good care of him_ _–_ then it crosses out him and says ' _them, sorry_ '," Mrs. Weasley informed him, her scowl growing darker and darker. "' _If Genesis shows the beginning signs of any kind of unusual illnesses (such as: heal spells and potions being ineffective, slow healing, scatter-mindedness and I pity you with trying to differentiate normal Genesis from_ –' and I won't repeat what it says here . . . anyway:

 _"You get the picture. IMMEDIATELY take him to St. Mungo's. Good luck. You're gonna need it.'_ "

Now Mr. Weasley looked worried.

"Why would they wish us good luck with mere children?"

"They can't possibly be any worse than Fred and George," Mrs. Weasley said with a scoff.

She really should have known better.

* * *

"GENESIS RHAPSODOS WEASLEY, YOU GET OVER HERE _RIGHT_ NOW!"

Mrs. Weasley stormed around the yard, searching for one infernal rust-haired boy.

"SO HELP ME, WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!"

"Whatever do you want with me, Mum?" said the boy in question, nose buried in his _Loveless_.

"That poem," she growled under her breath.

Sometimes she thought the person who wrote that note _knew_ he was going to be such a handful. . . . Of course they did. They wouldn't have wished Mr. and Mrs. Weasley good luck if they didn't know Genesis would be the devil incarnate. Not only was he worse than the twins in some ways, but he had even more energy then them, as well. She couldn't _believe_ , even after over a decade, how much stamina the boy held. There were times she was tempted to order him to run around the house until he dropped, just to see how long he could keep it up.

"Genesis Weasley, you get over here! I have a bone to pick with you!" she snapped angrily.

There was a thump and a small redheaded boy landed in front of her, having dropped from two stories up. She was fairly certain their bones were reinforced with titanium alloy, or something of the likes, to be able to take the abuse they put themselves through.

Honestly, she had gotten used to their odd little quirks. Angeal and Genesis had literally no fear of heights, unlike most normal children. They actually enjoyed being up in high places, risking life and limb. She had seen the boys on the roof of their house, standing on the edge, looking completely at bliss while their poor mother nearly had a heart attack and died. Genesis was inordinately good with fire (a natural-born pyromaniac) and magic in general. He had been using magic since he had his first accidental magic incident (blowing up the oven).

His blue eyes were wide and blameless, hair that was a shade of crimson even deeper than the Weasleys' sticking around his head wildly. It straggled to his shoulders, framing his face, and not for the first time she wished he'd let her cut it. The boy was downright stubborn about his hair, though, and refused to let her within a hundred meters of him with a pair of scissors.

"Yes, Mum?" asked Genesis angelically.

Mrs. Weasley wasn't fooled.

"Why are the socks I just finished knitting in ashes on the floor?"

Genesis, devilish as he could be, wasn't immune to Mrs. Weasley's evil eye. At least not yet, anyway. She tried to pretend that moment would never come. The day he stopped being terrified of her Evil Eye was the day she would lose all control of his fits of pyromania. It was a truly frightening thought.

"It was an accident, I swear!"

"Burning up the socks, three of our chairs, two portraits, and your alarm clock was a mistake?" she asked severely.

Genesis frowned, his eyes becoming slightly watery.

"I have a hard time controlling it!" he said plaintively. "The magic just come out of no where when I'm upset. . . . Like when the clock went off early."

Mrs. Weasley's face softened.

"Well, if that's the case. . ."

Then she spotted the poorly veiled triumphant look.

"GENESIS . . .!"

That day didn't turn out very productive for anyone.

Sometimes that book of his would drive her crazy as well. If she had known what would happen when he learned how to read and cracked open _Loveless_ , she would have strove to make sure he _never_ laid eyes on the book. From the moment he beheld the glory that was _Loveless_ , it was all over.

It was a couple weeks after the socks incident that Mrs. Weasley finally had enough and turned to the only person, other than herself, who could reason with Genesis. She didn't like to have to drag Angeal into the mess, but the boy had a famously even temperament that made him perfect to talk Genesis down from his crazier stunts. Like trying to jump _off the top of the roof_ with a sheet and hope to fly.

"Angeal, dear, could you go take that infernal book from your brother? If I have to hear him quote it one more time, I'll go mad." Mrs. Weasley looked up from her knitting with a slightly guilty smile. She knew Genesis loved _Loveless_ (no pun intended) to death, but she really wished he wouldn't quote it all the time, as if it was gospel.

Forget that – even holy men didn't recite scripture as much as Genesis quoted _Loveless_. He was truly obsessed.

"Sure, Mum," said Angeal. He marched over the Genesis and snatched the book away. "Sorry, Mum's orders."

Genesis gave a loud shout of protest, throwing a mini temper tantrum before he stomped outside, throwing one last betrayed look at Mrs. Weasley (who tried not to feel horridly guilty) and slammed the door closed. He would probably go and blow a few things up, maybe start a couple forest fires. If there were any innocent houses lying around, well, Mrs. Weasley felt for them. She just hoped he wouldn't get into another fight, but honestly it was too much of a pain to try and stop him.

She looked down at the red hardback book in her hands and . . . realized it wasn't a red hardback book. She blinked at the dull gray paperback, which had the words: "You Just Got TROLLED!" written in bold back, with a picture of a strange face that had a crooked jaw under it. And just like that, she knew exactly what had happened.

She had to take a moment to appraise Genesis's acting skills before she went nuclear.

"GENESIS RHAPSODOS WEASLEY! GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!"

And then: "ANGEAL, YOU COME HERE TOO!"

* * *

It was dark, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were about to lose it out of worry. Their newly-turned eleven year old adopted sons had ran outside six hours before, and they hadn't returned. It was nearing midnight, and none of the Weasleys had seen hide or hair of the mischievous boys. The prank was quickly becoming over the top, even for their strong tastes. They had never disappeared for so long before, and Mrs. Weasley was out of her mind with worry over them.

Charlie and Bill were there, having visited for their birthday, and had joined the frantic search. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had their wands out and were using them for light to see in the darkness. So far, they had found nothing but fields and the occasional gnome (Charlie had let out several creative curses when one of them bit his foot rather hard). There wasn't a trace of Genesis's rust-colored hair, or Angeal's bright blue eyes.

"Mum!" Fred and George bounded over, holding up a lantern. They weren't old enough to use magic outside of school, so they were stuck with lanterns. "We looked all over the south side – we didn't find anything!"

Mrs. Weasley frowned worriedly. "Alright, Fred, George. Why don't you take Ron and Ginny back to the house?"

"What?"

"But, Mum!"

Four children wailed in protest at the same time. She gave them her best _listen-now-or-pay-the-consequences_ look. Very reluctantly, the twins and Ron and Ginny returned to the house. They were just as worried their parents, she knew that, but she didn't want any more of her children wandering around after dark. She looked back out over the fields, wishing she could see a sign – any sign – of where her two adopted sons might be. They had gone missing before, but not for nearly so long. Usually, they would wander off exploring and forget the time. But this time she was really, truly afraid.

Mr. Weasley ran to Charlie, who was jogging up the them with his wand out.

"Have you seen them?"

Charlie shook his head.

"Percy thought he saw something and he ran off, and I tried to follow, but I've lost him," he said. "Hopefully he doesn't get stuck in a gopher hole."

"Where did he go?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a rush. Had Percy gone missing now, too? It was a mother's worst nightmare.

"Over there," Charlie pointed off to the east.

Mrs. Weasley took off at full-steam.

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Angeal asked.

Genesis pushed through shoulder-length grasses, wincing as the sharp blades sliced into his uncovered skin. Water sloshed around his ankles from a recent downpour and he was glad to have thought to wear galoshes. Usually he would never subject himself to this kind of torture, but he had received an owl earlier that morning telling him to take Angeal and come out to about a half-mile away from the Burrow. It was probably a stupid thing to follow instructions from a letter written by a stranger, but Genesis was curious. Once Genesis got curious, there was no end to the stupid things he could do.

Besides, Angeal and Genesis together were more than a match to fight against any people who wished them ill-will. Genesis would torch the idiot who dared cross them, and then Angeal would knock them out of their misery. Afterwards, he would berate Genesis for setting them on fire, because _that hurt people_. As if Angeal's monster punches didn't hurt people either, Genesis thought sourly. From there, they would drag the stranger back to the Burrow, get lectured ruthlessly for answering such a shady letter, and the Idiot would have "justice" handed to him or her by the rest of the Weasley family.

All in all, it was a good plan. Sure, they would probably get grounded for ten years, but Genesis wasn't very afraid of breaking the rules. If he cared about rules and regulations, he wouldn't have gained the honorable title, troublemaker of the family (right next to the twins). Luckily, the Weasleys had Angeal to reign the rust-haired boy when he got into one of his prank moods. Or when he got in one of his simply destructive moods. Angeal could _sort of_ keep Genesis from doing anything too explosive.

That wasn't even counting in the times when Angeal went along with his harebrained schemes willingly. He had a feeling the rest of the family would be shocked, or amused in the twins' case, to know how many stunts Angeal actually helped him out on. He wouldn't have gotten away with half the amount of stuff he did if it weren't for Angeal. As it were, he wouldn't have been able to sneak away from the Burrow without anyone noticing if he didn't have help. Fortunately for Genesis, this was one of those times when Angeal was cooperative. Sort of.

Genesis made a face as a tall strand of grass whipped into his face, his cheek stinging as the razor-sharp tip cut into his skin. He wiped away a line of blood, unconcerned for his health. He and Angeal had always healed incredibly fast.

"It'll be fine, Angeal."

Angeal stomped over a rotting log.

"It seems like common sense not to reply to mysterious letters."

"Your point?" asked Genesis. "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"I'm just making sure you don't get into too much trouble," said Angeal with a sigh.

"I am perfectly capable of handling myself!" snapped Genesis, annoyed.

"Uh huh, sure you are," Angeal agreed readily.

"Shut up, Angeal."

"I didn't say anything."

Genesis stopped abruptly. He batted a few wispy grasses away from his face, only to nearly tear a chunk of hair out when his fingers got caught in his tangled bangs. Fighting down the urge to set something on fire (he really hated it when his hair gave him grief), he looked around cautiously. Before them was a seemingly deserted clearing, the water level dropping so that solid ground was visible. It was here the letter instructed them to come, but there wasn't anyone waiting for them. At least, there was no one he could see. It was cold and even though water subsided in the clearing, it had raised around his ankles so he was standing in an inch of mud. He could feel his body heat take vacation into the atmosphere.

He shivered, wishing suddenly that he had a wand. He knew plenty of spells (the older boys' really should have known better than to let their books lay around where he could get his hands on them) and his control was perfectly fine. He didn't know why Mrs. Weasley wouldn't just crack down and get him a wand. So yeah, maybe he was underage, but there had to be a way around that pesky little law.

And that was probably the reason she wouldn't get him a wand.

Angeal and Genesis exchanged a glance before moving out to skirt the clearing, paranoia keeping them cautious. Genesis held up his hand, a small ball of fire lighting up the darkening sky. If anyone was going to show up, they needed to do it soon. There was only so much sun left in the day, their parents were going to freak if they spent too much more time outside. Even worse, they were out of sight and hearing distance from Mrs. Weasley. The last thing Genesis wanted to deal with was an irate Mrs. Weasley. If she discovered how far out they had gone, she would probably lock them up for a year.

"You think anyone's going to show up?" Angeal whispered.

"Shut up!" Genesis hissed, holding his hand up. "Did you hear that?"

There were voices – two of them. One sounded male and the other female.

" . . . they here, Aerith?"

"Yes, they're hiding," replied the female voice. "Genesis, Angeal! You can come out now!"

Angeal and Genesis shared a nonplussed look. The strangers knew their names. As creepy as that should have felt, Genesis felt no dread or foreboding from the two strangers.

There was probably no point of staying in the grass now. Genesis stepped out slowly, fixing his eyes on the figures in front of him, watching for a single threatening move. Angeal was right behind him, visibly tense, and wondered if he looked as tense. He probably did. The taller silhouette was a kid a little younger than Genesis and Angeal, with spiky raven-black hair and tanned olive skin. There was a scar on his jaw, his eyes bright and luminous blue, just like their own. His face was open and friendly.

The shorter was a girl, long chestnut brown hair pulled back in a braid with a large pink bow and white glassy sphere. She had green eyes that glowed, but differently than the boy's and Angeal and Genesis's. It was otherworldly, but peaceful and calming at the same time. She didn't have any scars on her face, but she greeted them with a smile that was welcoming, as if they were family, or old friends finally reuniting.

"Who are you?" asked Genesis cautiously.

Were they relatives he had never heard from before? Did they know about his and Angeal's parents? If so, it was rich of them to show up now. After being raised by the Weasley family for over a decade, they were his family. For a while, Genesis had wanted to know who his biological parents were, why they had abandoned him and Angeal at the Weasley's front door. However, as the years passed by, he had found himself caring less and less about relatives he had never met. Even if he did meet them, he highly doubted it would be a cheerful reunion.

That was when another theory occurred to him: perhaps they were aliens from outer space, come to abduct them and dissect them. Or maybe it was a prank, and they were going to get them in trouble for nothing. . . . Or maybe his imagination was running away with him, totally out of control, and he couldn't comprehend what was happening.

The girl smiled, but instead of answering Genesis's question, she turned to her companion. The action served to miff Genesis to a small degree.

"Are you . . . ready?" she sounded reluctant. Her smile was flickering. "They're here now."

The boy stared at Angeal and Genesis, something uncomfortable stirring in his eyes.

"They're just kids. . . ."

"The goddess thinks they're ready," the girl replied.

Genesis scowled, though his eyes were starting to feel very heavy.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked waspishly. "Are you going to answer my question or not?"

To his right, Angeal swayed, blinking quickly.

" . . . Tired," he mumbled. He suddenly looked alarmed. "Why am I so tired?"

Just as Genesis was going to demand Angeal to explain in more detail, he swayed on his feet. His eyes blurred, the earth rushing around his head and the strangers' voices seem to distort, as if he was underwater. He collapsed within seconds, while Angeal managed to stay on his feet. Genesis was far too out of it to be properly annoyed at his own lack of endurance, focusing on the light throbbing in his head and the way the dusky sky was spinning around in circles. He remembered his mother saying something about Angeal's endurance as opposed to his stamina. Something about a thick skill – or a heightened immune system? . . . More hair?

There was a second thump as Angeal succumbed to his drowsiness as well. Genesis blinked slowly, struggling valiantly to keep his eyes open. The boy and girl were still speaking to each other, seeming to ignore their plight.

" . . . just kids."

" . . . you sure? This could . . . have childhood."

"Minvera thinks . . . Lifestream . . ."

"Screw that . . . so young."

"Okay, Zack. I agree. . . . They're so young," the girl was saying.

"After everything they went through, they deserve a normal childhood," the boy, Zack, replied.

Genesis faded into sleep, his eyes sliding closed. It was as if the world simply winked out for a second and when he opened his eyes, he was being pulled up into the arms of Mrs. Weasley. She was furious, sobbing, and relieved all at the same time, which was a feat. The entire family was there – Mr. Weasley, Percy, Charlie, Bill, Fred, George, Ron, and even Ginny. He let her squeeze him in a tight hug, wiping sleep from his eyes and looking through the grasses for the boy and the girl. They had disappeared and taken the answers to his questions with them.

"You are grounded for a month, young man!"

 _Great_.

* * *

 **A/N: Heyo! This probably wasn't a very clear chapter... well it's more of a prologue. Probably should have labeled it 'prologue.'**

 **This is my first time publishing any works like this... I've written a crap load of stuff, but I haven't ever gotten around to publishing them. I'm kind of scatterbrained with my stories, but I'll try not to publish a million things and never update. ... Hopefully. XD**

 **Anyhow, there will be some out of character behavior, giving their varying environments and the way the characters were raised. I have a very hard time with characterization, mostly because I just kind of want the characters to do what _I_ want them to do, but they don't always listen. (I'm looking at you, Genesis.)**

 **I hope you enjoyed this! I love constructive criticism, so if there's any glaring errors, please point them out! I tried to proofread, but I probably missed things. I'll try to update somewhat frequently, but... ahaha *looks up at pen name*. Yeah. I'll _at least_ up date every week or so. Hopefully. **

**Until next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

02

"Harry! Harry! Harry –"

A book went flying.

"Would you stop that?"

" . . . I just wanted to ask if it was time to go yet?" said a small boy, huddled in a cupboard under a flight a stairs.

He was accompanied by the illustrious Harry Potter, who was currently hunkering down to avoid the clothes hangers, his nose in a book. His glasses were slightly askew on his head, brow furrowed in concentration. When he heard the boy's question, guilt bubbled up in his chest.

"Seph, you're not old enough for Hogwarts," he said regretfully. "You've got to be eleven, and you're not. You're only nine."

Sephiroth Crescent crossed his arms. A pair of luminous green eyes, with snake-like slitted pupils, peeked out from a mat of silver hair. The long strands hung around his face and reached down to his waist in tangled gnarls. The first time Harry had attempted to give the boy a haircut, Sephiroth had run as fast as his legs could carry him and camped out in a tree for a few hours. It had taken a lot of convincing, which may or may not have included a bribery of sweets, for him to come down. The boy was mortally afraid of short hair, it seemed.

At first, his pale skin had worried Harry, because it just wasn't natural for someone to permanently look like a ghost. However, he had gotten used to it. Sephiroth never tanned, even after hours spent under the sun during the dead of summer.

He had shown up on the Dursley's door step five years prior, shivering and terribly ill. It had been six months before he came out of his sickness induced sleep. During that time, Harry had painstakingly tried to keep the boy from dying of hunger or dehydration and keep his fever down. The Dursleys had been spectacularly irate afterwards, due to the fact that Harry had more or less pitched the temper tantrum of the century to keep them from abandoning the boy on a random street. It was one of the only times Harry got his way.

When Sephiroth woke up, he wasn't speaking in English. And when Harry tried to talk to him, he found out Sephiroth understood very little of English in general. In fact, he knew just enough to inform Harry that he couldn't speak the language. It took them some time, but Harry eventually figured out Sephiroth's native language was _Japanese_ , of all things. He was forced to teach the boy English, because all the holy deities above knew the Dursleys weren't going to do it.

Harry had only been six years old when Sephiroth woke up, so he hadn't been very good at thinking of things to say. So, when Sephiroth asked who Harry was and where he was, Harry had cheerfully stated he was Sephiroth's big brother. For better or worse, Sephiroth had latched onto that and never showed much interest in finding out who his real parents where. All attempts at finding a family that matched the name "Crescent" had failed miserably as well.

Harry was pretty sure Sephiroth knew he wasn't really the boy's older brother. He hoped.

"But . . . _nii-san,_ " said Sephiroth, using his native language to refer to Harry as his older brother. Harry didn't mind while they were alone, but he really wished Sephrioth would kick the habit. ". . . I'll be by myself."

Sephiroth sat with his legs crossed, hands folded in his lap. He didn't look animated or happy, which was to be expected. Sephiroth was a calm child – not to the point of being strange and he did have his sugar-induced moments that tended to give Harry nightmares, but he wasn't one for hysterics. He wasn't often effected by the things people said to him. The one thing that would leave him a shaking mess was abandonment.

Harry couldn't remember a second in his life, since Sephiroth had woken up those five years ago, that his little brother hadn't been shadowing him from somewhere. The teachers at the local schools had even attempted to get him into counseling for a case of _monophobia_ – to be put simply, the fear of being alone. The Dursleys had waved them off and merely shipped Sephiroth off to another school, lying about his age and putting him the same classes at Harry.

At the time, Harry hadn't quite understood or even cared, because he didn't mind have his brother with him all the time. When Sephiroth had a full-on breakdown after being left alone in the cupboard for two hours, he realized just how bad the condition had gotten. Harry was no psychologist, he didn't know how to deal with phobias. The only thing he could do was try to always keep Sephiroth close to him, but he knew it wasn't going to fix the issue.

But now he was going into his first year at Hogwarts and Sephiroth couldn't follow. As much as he didn't like it, Harry had no choice but to leave Sephiroth behind. There was no way he could get Sephiroth into school with him – he had even asked Hagrid about it. The gentle giant had sadly informed him that there wouldn't be any exceptions. Sephiroth would just have to wait three more years, until he was old enough to go to Hogwarts. He just hoped the house was still intact when he came back.

There was a calculating gleam in Sephiroth's serpentine green eyes. Harry really should have noticed it. Then again, even if he had noticed the look, nothing he could have said would have stopped Sephiroth. Once he had an idea stuck in his head, there was little that would dissuade him. (Like the time he poisoned one of Aunt Marge's dogs). Maybe he wouldn't get into too much trouble this time.

Yeah, right. That was just wishful thinking.

* * *

The train was a dream come true and a nightmare at the same time.

Sephiroth was overjoyed to be away from the Dursleys, the cold and apathetic sideways glances, never fully acknowledging that he existed. But the sight of the train opened up all sorts of insecurities that he had been trying to ignore. It was really started to truly sink in that there was a separate magical world apart from the mundane average life. He was a monster in the world of non-magical people. He hoped he would be able to fit in a little more in the world of wizards and witches.

He left his trunk with the other First Years' luggage. Not once while he was doing this did he see a person with silver hair, or slitted pupils. There were no odd wings sticking out, either. He still felt ghostly pale, attracting odd glances as he pushed his way through the crowd toward the Hogwarts Express. It was enough to make him want to curl up in a small ball and never see the light of day again.

His brother had no idea Sephiroth had followed him, which was meant the first phase of the plan was a success. If he discovered the rest of Sephiroth's plan, Harry would likely have a conniption and never let him within sight-distance of a train for the rest of his life. Sephiroth had convinced Hagrid to buy him first year items in advance, so he wouldn't have to bother "two years from now". When Hagrid argued that he might grow in two years, Sephiroth glumly informed him that it was highly unlikely. Sadly, it was the truth - Sephiroth wasn't fed nearly enough sustenance to grow a significant amount.

He had already resigned himself to being a midget for the rest of his life.

Everything was ready and now he just had to hope the magic of Hogwarts liked him, or that the Professors would be to lazy to send him back. Or that his puppy eyes idea would work. There were so many ways this idea could blow up in his face, it wasn't even funny.

Yes, Sephiroth was preparing to sneak onto Hogwarts Express and enter Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the young age of nine years old. He'd never been an average nine-year-old anyway. He could fit in. Just so long as they bought the story, _"He was underfed and naturally small – Japanese are like that, you know."_ He was pretty sure they would be dumb enough to believe the Japanese part. Not that it was particularly untrue.

It was incredibly crowed in the train, students of upper and lower years pushing to find compartments before they were taken by others. Sephiroth was small and certainly not the widest person there – he _was_ two years younger than the youngest students, after all. He was almost immediately trampled under the feet of a large, nasty boy who could have been part troll, judging by his features. His foot slipped and hit the boy square in the back, but he lost Harry (who had been tailing) in the process.

Unfortunately, one Prefect by the name of Percy Weasley had kicked him off the train, firmly disbelieving Sephiroth was not old enough to enroll at Hogwarts. All of his adamant protests that the redhead's accusations were lies (though they were actually very true) went unheard.

Thus, he was left with Plan B: boarding the train (and staying on board) the hard way.

He waited until no one was looking – hiding behind a particularly large woman – and put on his disguise. His disguise was really only a large hat for his hair and a scarf, but he didn't exactly have the funds for anything fancier. From there on, he slipped through the crowd with the boneless kind of grace of a snake, expertly staying out of sight. He managed to hide behind a tall cart full of luggage from a foreign wizard and the large woman, who was conversing loudly with a blind man.

The impromptu-door, also known as a window, was quite high. In fact, it too high for an average nine year old to reach.

He puzzled over which window he wanted to enter in for a while, hoping to find one that belonged to an empty compartment. That was when the train's whistle blew and it started moving, much to his horror. He thoughtlessly leaped straight up, using only a small bit of his unnatural strength, fingers hooking onto the edge of the windows. The train began to pick up speed at an alarming rate.

Chewing his lip nervously ( _who wouldn't be nervous_ – he thanked his lucky stars that the tunnel leading out into the country-side was large enough to fit a train and a small boy. He didn't feel like becoming a pancake any time soon. The tunnel was very dark, so he couldn't see a single thing, and he was relieved when daylight returned. He returned his focus to finding a way inside the train.

And almost had a panic attack.

It was just his luck – the window he had to grab onto was the Prefects' compartment. Thankfully, none of them had noticed him yet. He quickly angled himself to the edge of the window, eyeing the next window. This was going to a tricky move. . . .

The ground passed by under him, wind howling in his ears. His hair had escaped the hat by now, whipping around his face. The train was already going at a break-neck speed.

He took a deep breath, swung himself to one side, and then let go of the window, flinging himself at the other window. He clung on with a death-grip (it was physically painful stopping himself from looking down), trembling with fright. He gave a slightly hysterical laugh as the train shook. He couldn't believe that actually _worked_.

He reached to open the window – right up until he saw the two troll-like boys that had trampled him over earlier. There were a couple other students whose general appearance made his skin crawl. He decided he wouldn't be boarding Hogwarts Express through this window, either. Hopefully he'd have better luck with the next one, because the train was only gaining more speed and Sephiroth's fingers were going numb. Any longer out in the cold wind and it would be hard to move them properly.

He shifted his grip, looked up one more time – right into a pair of shocked, fear-stricken gray eyes. He froze, staring back.

This wasn't part of the very carefully thought-out plan. And he really didn't have a back-up plan, other than knock anyone who got in his way unconscious. Causing injury probably wouldn't help his case if he was caught, though.

He could see what the pale-haired boy was saying.

" _What the bloody freaking hell?!_ "

Sephiroth let go of the window briefly to keep his hat from flying off – the boy blanched even farther, if possible.

" _Don't let go, you idiot!_ "

Sephiroth was starting to feel amused by the boy's reactions. He looked over at the other occupants of the compartment and once again felt that chill. There were three others, the two trolls, and an older student with a green and silver necktie. The latter boy watched him with an odd leer. Finally he said, "Why is there a little girl hanging off the window?"

Maybe he should have been more concerned over the older student's blatant disregard over his health, but he was caught up over another part of his statement. A nuclear bomb didn't really go off, but it might as well have.

" _I'm not a girl!_ " Sephiroth yelled furiously, momentarily letting go of the train window to flail his arms, as if that would help get his point across.

Unfortunately, he needed to hold onto the train to keep from falling. It wasn't one of his better moments.

The blond boy once again had a mild panic attack and lunged for the window, fumbling to open it as Sephiroth wildly scrambled to grab on again. In any case, he didn't want to end up in that compartment. That one upper year boy was still looking at him, he didn't it like one little bit. So while the blond boy was trying to unlatch the window and open it, Sephiroth planned his next move.

Just as the window opened, he sprang off the window to the side and landed on the other one with a loud thump – not the most graceful landing. As expected, a horrified shriek sounded from the blond boy's compartment and his head poked out, eyes wide and probably expecting to see nothing. Then he saw Sephiroth hanging tightly onto another window.

" _ARE YOU INSANE?!_ " the boy screamed at him.

Sephiroth was about to laugh maniacally – right up until he saw who was staring at him _this_ time.

And all he could think was: _Oh, shit._

"Seph . . . what the bloody hell . . ." Harry's voice was weak with disbelief.

Of course, it only took him a second longer to fully comprehend what he was looking at. That was when Harry panicked and yanked the window open. As Sephiroth contemplated the possibility of surviving a hit to the ground at these speeds, a hand grabbed his scarf. Two more tackled his shoulders (since when did Harry have three arms?) and he was sent flying into the compartment.

Sephiroth was hit by a wave of warm air, which was nice after being in the cold. He sat on the floor a second, before awkwardly scratching the back of his head. He tried for a weak smile, which died the moment he saw the expression on Harry's face, promising cruel and unusual punishment.

"Er – hello, _nii-san._ "

Harry literally growled. Sephiroth resisted the urge to shriek and run for his life.

"Don't give me that _nii-san_ stuff! What were you thinking?!"

Sephiroth fidgeted, noting the redhead who was gaping in awe and complete bewilderment.

"I – uh, got left behind. Almost. Some git with red hair and glasses wouldn't let me on the train. He didn't believe I was eleven."

Harry's face went red and a vein bulged. He almost burst out that Sephiroth _wasn't_ eleven, but stopped himself. Despite the insane measures his foolish little brother went through to make sure they were together, he couldn't help but be relieved Sephiroth wouldn't be alone.

Instead he just sighed in defeat.

"You could have killed yourself," said Harry. "You should have just found me and I could have talked sense into the idiot."

The redhead's face flushed.

"Red hair? Glasses? Was he a Prefect?"

Sephiroth nodded silently.

The boy also gave a long suffering sigh.

"That was my brother. Percy Weasley. . . . Er – I'm Ron Weasley, by the way," he said with an awkward smile.

" _Konnichiwa_ ," Sephiroth replied.

Ron blinked owlishly, and Harry swatted the back of his head.

" _Stop_ with the Japanese," he said waspishly. "You know no one speaks it here."

"Ow, no need to be mean," Sephiroth stated, rubbing the back of his head.

Harry's tense shoulders slumped, and he let out a breath.

"Sorry, Seph. Just – you really worried me. You were right outside the train – you could have _died_."

Sephiroth stood and bowed, feeling badly about how much he worried his brother. "I'm sorry, brother. I didn't mean for you to worry."

Harry coughed at the slight formality. "Er – don't worry about it, Seph."

Sephiroth sat next to Harry and pulled the one thing he hadn't put with the rest of his First Year items out of a zipped pocket. Half the reason he was so ungraceful was because he had been extra careful not to hurt the poor thing –

"Is that a kitten?" Harry asked, sounding weary. "Where did you get that?"

Sephiroth held up the tiny bundle of fur and claws. It was white, with golden eyes. The fur was unimaginably soft. He stroked the kitten's fur gently. "I picked it up at the pet shop before the train left."

Understanding dawned in Harry's eyes. "Oh – that's what you did after we said goodbye. You went and bought yourself a pet for Hogwarts."

"Yeah," Sephiroth replied. "Uh, I hope you don't mind me using your money to do that . . ."

"How much did the cat cost?" Harry asked.

Somewhere in the background, Ron Weasley was looking beyond confused.

Sephiroth's hand paused mid-stroke over the kitten's neck.

" . . . Do you really want to know?"

"Probably not."

"Agreed."

* * *

Some time later, the compartment door was opened and two other First Year students walked in. One was a girl with prominent front teeth and thick, bushy brown hair. There was a sharp, intelligent gleam in her hazel eyes. Behind her was a chubby boy with dark hair, blue eyes, and a timid countenance. He looked to be on the verge of darting the opposite direction as fast as his legs could carry him.

Sephiroth quickly raised the book he had "borrowed" from Harry, trying to meld with the wall. _Think of the wall, become the wall. He was the wall._

"Have you seen a toad?" asked the girl. "Neville here lost his."

She finally noticed Ron, poised to do magic, and her eyes lit up.

"Are you going to try to use magic? I've already done a few spells successfully." She sat down next to Sephiroth. "Well, let's see!"

He clutched the book tighter. _Go away._ He had met Ron and talked to the redhead with glasses. He had done plenty of socializing for the year. _Leave, now_.

Ron cleared his throat, sharing an uncomfortable look with Harry, and held his wand up. " _Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow – Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow._ "

Sephiroth risked peering over the top of his book again – hopefully the girl wouldn't see him – and watched as absolutely nothing happened to Ron's rat. An amused smile barely flickered over his face, and the girl turned and noticed him. She gave a start.

"Oh! I didn't see you there," she said apologetically.

He shrugged, returning to his book.

" _Hogwarts, A History?_ " the girl questioned.

He lowered it slightly. "Yes. . . . What of it?"

"I've read it front to back, it's a really good read," the girl commented. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself. I've been so excited – my family's not magic, you see, and it was such a surprise when my letter came. We didn't really believe Professor McGonagall – she teaches Transfiguration, I can't wait for that class – until we saw Diagon Alley. I'm Hermione Granger."

" _Konnichiwa_." Sephiroth watched her blankly a few moments, inwardly laughing at Harry's annoyed expression. One of these days Harry might realize he only spoke in Japanese anymore to irritate him. Finally, he stated, "I'm Sephiroth Crescent – Harry's brother."

"He's my _little_ brother," Harry corrected, and then remembered Sephiroth wasn't supposed to be nine years old here. "Er – I'm older by – uh – two days."

Sephiroth shot him a look. _Smooth_.

Harry glared back. _Shut up_.

Hermione Granger looked over at Harry, who was suddenly very uncomfortable. "Harry Potter? _The_ Harry Potter? I've read all about you."

"Read about me?" Harry parroted.

"Yes, of course," said Hermione. "If I were you, I'd want to know everything. I didn't know you have a brother! You must be adopted."

"Didn't read about me in your books?" Sephiroth mumbled, rolling his eyes.

The kitten mewled, rubbing his head against Sephiroth's hand, vying for attention. Sephiroth complied, his insides once again melting at the sight of the kitten. He inwardly decided to name the attention-seeking animal Shinra, though he had no idea why the idea possessed him. Maybe the name had something to do with a desperate need for attention?

Hermione had heard him.

"There wasn't anything in the books about you, how strange." She frowned, as if books not holding information was a novel thing for her. "I'll have to look into this . . ."

"Don't bother," he said. "I was, um, adopted five years ago. No books about me."

Hermione nodded in understanding, rising to her feet.

"Well, I'd best be off – Neville hasn't found his toad yet." She stood up and went for the door, but before she left she whirled around and said, "And we'll be reaching Hogwarts soon, so I'd change into your uniform."

And she disappeared.

Ron grimaced. "Whatever House I'm in, I hope she's not in it."

"Scabber's whiskers look a little lighter," said Harry in an attempt to make Ron feel better.

They hurriedly changed into their uniforms. Once they were all in the Hogwarts robes, Sephiroth returned to _Hogwarts, a History_. After reading the same sentence five times, he decided he wouldn't be comprehending the book for a while, at least not until he calmed down.

"You have a lot of brothers?" Sephiroth asked, abandoning the book.

"Yeah," said Ron, depressed. "One sister and seven brothers. Two of them just showed up on the doorstep one day, and Mum and Dad took them in. They're coming to Hogwarts at the same time as me."

He looked like he'd rather they didn't.

"Angeal's okay, but Genesis likes to set things on fire."

Sephiroth paused. _Angeal? Genesis?_ Those names were so familiar, but . . .

"Set things on fire?"

"Oh, yeah," Ron said. "Dishes, laundry, old spell books. If Genesis gets angry, make sure nothing you care about is around. Angeal's a lot calmer – he gets along real well with Bill and Charlie."

"Who is –" Sephiroth started, but he was interrupted when the door was slid open again and the pale pointy-faced boy from Diagon Alley, who thought Sephiroth was a nutter, walked in. He was flanked by the two large, troll-like boys that had trampled Sephiroth earlier, as if they were henchmen or something. He had been lucky enough to not have to talk to him in Madam Malkin's, but he got the feeling he wasn't going to be so lucky this time.

"I heard there's a Harry Potter in this compartment," said the pale boy. He wore a nasty smirk on his face. "I'm Malfoy – Draco Malfoy."

Ron coughed to hide a snicker at Malfoy's antics. Sephiroth smirked derisively – he would bet his smirk was _much_ better than Malfoy's. Malfoy wasn't amused.

"Something funny?" he sneered. He glanced Ron over. "Red hair, hand-me-down clothes. You must be a Weasley. My father warned me about your lot."

Sephiroth sighed, letting his head fall back on the wall.

"What're _you_?" asked Malfoy rudely. His gray eyes were set on Sephiroth, a nasty glint in them. Then the glint disappeared. " _Wait_ – you're the madman that was hanging outside the bloody train! How are you still alive?! Thought you would have tried to do something else stupid and died by now!"

"I'm a human being and I'm alive because I didn't fall," Sephiroth replied flatly. "And I don't do stupid things."

Harry snorted.

"I don't!"

Ron and Harry sniped back and forth against Malfoy, while Sephiroth lost all interest in the conversation in favor of pouring all his attention toward Shinra the kitten. After that, Malfoy said something that had both Ron and Harry lunging at him in unison. Once Malfoy and his cronies had cleared out, Sephiroth finally tuned the conversation back in.

"What'd he say that sent you two off?"

Ron scowled through his bloody nose.

"He called you a . . . a _half-breed_." He looked as though the word physically pained him. "It's an awful thing to call someone."

Sephiroth pressed his forehead against the window pane of the compartment. "What was I half of?"

"Sephiroth!" Harry protested.

He shrugged. "I'm just curious."

"He didn't say," Ron replied.

"I don't even know what I am," Sephiroth said, not quite sure if he should feel mournful for that or not.

He had his older brother, and for him that was all that mattered.

"I could be half-breed, for all I know."

"You're my brother, that's what you are," said Harry. "You only remind me every five seconds. And you're going to have fun at Hogwarts. Understood?"

 _Since you almost killed yourself to sneak in illegally, you'd might as well enjoy it_ , went unspoken, but was clearly heard.

Sephiroth let out a scoff, but he couldn't keep the smile from lighting his eyes slightly.

" _Hai, Hai_ , _nii-san,_ " he said, snickering as Harry's eyebrow twitched.

"Don't worry," said Ron sagely. "My brothers are bit odd, too. Glowing eyes, they've got. Real freaky sometimes."

Sephiroth watched the redhead with renewed interest. Maybe he wouldn't be so alone in his oddities here than he thought.

" . . . Glowing eyes?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "I mean, they don't have silver hair or anything, but Genesis is crazy good with magic and Angeal could probably break an elephant in half."

Harry suddenly lunged over and grabbed Sephiroth's book. The silveret let out a surprised sound and went to take it back, but Harry kept it out of his reach.

"I don't think so! You've been hiding behind it the whole train ride, but not anymore."

"Give – it – back," Sephiroth hissed, jumping to grab the book, only to get kicked away. Harry grinned teasingly at him. "It's not funny, _nii-san_! Give it back!"

The compartment door slid open, just as Sephiroth roughly shoved Harry's head down and reached for the book. The two of them tumbled off the seat onto the ground at the newcomers' feet. Sephiroth quickly snatched his book, ignoring Harry's laughter, and retreated to his corner in the compartment. By the time Harry had gotten over himself and stopped laughing at Sephiroth's desperation for his book, the two new kids were thoroughly bemused.

Sephiroth opened the book and once again pretended to be interested in it. The newcomers were boys, one being slender with rust-colored hair and sharply glowing blue eyes. The other had spiky black hair slicked back with a strong widow's peak, and blue eyes a shade darker than the redhead's. Their skin was healthily tanned, though the redhead was quite a bit paler than the ravenet. The rust-haired boy was carrying a red hardback book.

" _Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess_ ," the rust-haired boy mused aloud. "A scuffle? How quaint."

"Shut it, Genesis," Ron said thickly around his chocolate frog.

Genesis and the other boy's eyes seemed to immediately find their way to Sephiroth, who was doing his best _not_ to be noticed. For a second, when their eyes met, Sephiroth had the strangest feeling he had seen them before. It was the niggling feeling of familiarity that was like having a memory only seconds away, a word on the tip of his tongue, but neither ever came to fruition. To say the feeling didn't summon the utmost amount of irritation would be a lie.

"I'm Angeal Hewley Weasley," said dark-haired boy. "The Professor's will probably be using our middle names a lot . . . there will be _five_ Weasleys in school this year, after all."

"And I am Genesis Rhapsodos Weasley," said Genesis grandly, as if announcing he was the King of England.

They both stared at him pointedly. Sephiroth wondered if he could get away with hiding behind his book again. Harry very casually changed seats so he was sitting next to Sephiroth and rammed his knuckles into the silver-haired boy's head.

"Get on with it!"

"Ow!" Sephiroth frowned at Harry, rubbing his head. "That was unnecessary."

"Would you introduce yourself if I didn't?" Harry asked threateningly.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes, mumbling, "I'm Sephiroth Crescent."

Awkward silence. That seemed to follow Sephiroth coughed.

"Ever heard of _Loveless_?"

"MERLIN, NO!" Ron yelled, lunging at Genesis. They dissolved into a whirlwind of fists and limbs, while Angeal pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh.

"What is –?" Sephiroth started, but Angeal cut him off.

"Don't ask. Just – don't." Angeal laughed sheepishly. "He's a little obsessed with that poem. If you even think about mentioning that word, he'll go into a really long and boring "discussion" about it."

Sephiroth didn't know what the finger quotations were for, but he figured it was unpleasant.

"You got anything you like to do?" Angeal asked cautiously. "Like Quidditch?"

"I heard Ron talking about Quidditch," Sephiroth replied. "But I've never played it. As for hobbies, well . . . I like reading?"

Actually, he had always wanted to play an instrument. However, when he asked the Dursleys, Mr. Dursley had laughed for a good five minutes before giving him a flat-out "No." That conversation hadn't ended well.

"That's, uh . . . it, pretty much."

Angeal smiled. "That's alright. Hogwarts has lots of things to offer."

"Do they . . ." Sephiroth fingered the pages of his book, wondering if he should even voice his wish. "Do they . . . teach music of any kind?"

Angeal seemed a little taken aback by that.

"I . . . have no idea." He shrugged. "Guess we'll find out. Maybe one of the Professors can tutor you?"

It was a bit foolish, but the thought lifted his spirits somewhat. Sephiroth flipped a page he hadn't read.

"Maybe."

The rest of the train ride didn't vary much from the first part, sans the climbing session on the outside. Genesis and Angeal seemed comfortable in the compartment, despite how crowded it became. On Genesis's part, he enjoyed irritating Ron as much as humanly possible. Angeal stuck around to make sure their little fights didn't get out of hand. Sephiroth tried to absorb himself into his book, but Harry was having none of that. The older boy nudged him every now and then to get him involved in whatever they were talking about.

Before they knew it, the train was slowing to a halt. He tapped his fingers on his knees, anxious and anticipating the Sorting Ceremony, hoping they wouldn't figure out he wasn't supposed to be there. Ron was nervously chattering about what House he hoped to be Sorted into. Angeal was informing Genesis that _no_ , it was _not_ okay to set random things on fire in Hogwarts. It might be a school of magic, but they didn't tolerate pyromaniacs.

Genesis sulked for a good few minutes.

Outside, it was dark, and the moon was just rising above the tree line. A tall, broad man with a bushy beard and beady black eyes swung a lantern back and forth. Sephiroth immediately recognized him as Hagrid, the man who had recently introduced Harry and him to the wizarding world. The man waved cheerily at them, beckoning the first years.

Hagrid knew he wasn't supposed to be there. He would just have to keep his head down and not get caught by the large man.

Sephiroth was about to do just that, when there was the sound of someone tripping and something rolling across the ground. One of the students was angrily chewing out another, his voice dripping with narcissism and a promise of vengeance. The boy on the receiving end literally shook in terror, his pale, round face a picture of dismay. Sephiroth recognized him as the boy who was with Hermione Granger. He had lost his pet toad, or something of the likes.

A wand had fallen. Sephiroth thought it looked like it was made from hawthorn.

Whatever the case, he stooped and picked it up. He blinked and looked up at the platinum-haired blond boy, to whom the wand belonged. Dropping one's wand wasn't the smartest thing to do, but it probably wasn't the best time to point that out. The blond boy – what was his name? Dracula? No, Draco – was divided between being completely nonplussed, or having a major temper tantrum.

Sephiroth stepped over to the edge of the crowd of First Years, nearest to the forest, and held out the wand in his hand. Harry had wanted to him to at least attempt to enjoy himself at Hogwarts. He probably wouldn't even begin to have fun himself, if he didn't see Sephiroth making any friends - he worried a lot like that. Sephiroth thought Harry probably worried a little too much.

Whether it was inadvertent or not, the Dursleys had somehow managed to convince Harry that Sephiroth was a couple strings away from snapping completely. That counselor had not helped the issue much by diagnosing him with an _anxiety_ _disorder_ of all things. Not that it wasn't entirely true, though.

Sephiroth was terrified of being abandoned. The very thought of Harry leaving him alone would have him frozen in fear. One day, they would grow up and their paths might lead them in different directions. When that day came, he honestly didn't know what he would do.

 _You'll have to promise to smile more. You used to smile all the time, remember? . . . Just promise me, when the time comes, you'll at least try?_

 _Try, huh?_ Sephiroth mused inwardly.

He didn't see much of a point, trying to be kind to Draco Malfoy. He was still sneering at him, unpleasant and not likely to accept anything he found less than perfect. Going from appearances, it would be a waste of energy and time. But Sephiroth had been misjudged from appearances more times than he could count. He was never one to read a person from their facial expressions.

 _Just try._

Harry was a little devil in angel's clothing sometimes.

Sephiroth tried for a smile, although he wasn't sure if he succeeded or not. Draco blinked at his proffered wand several times. Then he reached over to snatch it away, careful not to touch Sephiroth's skin.

"You're really weird."

Well, Sephiroth hadn't expected a "Thank you."

He smiled anyway.

* * *

 **A/N: Heyo ~**

 **And here's chapter two! Thank you everyone for following and favoriting! (Is that even a word?...It is now.)**

 **So I should probably warn (probably should have warned in the first chappie... *nervous laughter*) that I'm kind of coming up with a plot on the fly. There will be a sort of undercurrent plot that will eventually create some plot divergences, because I don't like to just follow the source material.**

 **The story will also mostly follow Sephiroth from here on out. I spent a lot of time mentally developing his character, so... Yeah. If there are any other characters you guys want to have a cameo have a part in the plot, I can write them in. But I'm trying to keep the added characters to a minimum for now. I don't want to get weighed down by too many characters. :D**

 **Hopefully chapter three will come out in about a week, too, but I need to rewrite the entire thing . so we'll see about that. Again! THANKS FOR THE FAVS AND FOLLOWS! :DD**

 **~TheLazyOne out.**


	3. Chapter 3

03

 _"You're really weird."_

The silence lasted for about five seconds, before the whispers started. The students' words were mostly targeted at his silver hair or bright green eyes. After living with this for nine years, every day of his life under the roof of the Dursleys, one might think Sephiroth would be more used to reactions like that. Even so, it was a little discouraging to see wary eyes on the faces of the people who were supposed to be his classmates.

His earliest memories were of those cold eyes. Stumbling through blank hallways and reaching for help, only to find himself facing the backs of strangers as they walked away from him. He had no memory of where he came from or who he was before waking in the Dursleys' abode, nor did he particularly care to find out. Despite telling himself that he didn't care, over and over, there was also the nagging doubt, a kind of curiosity that bordered on masochistic.

Sephiroth was strong and fast, he was much cleverer than the average child and picked up on new things quickly.

For all intents and purposes, he had been welcomed into the Dursleys' house purely for the sake of doing the harder chores that Harry couldn't do, even though he was younger. It was around his seventh birthday when he learned the word "slave" and realized it applied to him more than he would like to admit. Harry, at nine years old, had understood as well. Never had Sephiroth seen the normally calm boy so outraged.

On top of that, he was something of a joke to the rest of the Dursleys' family. It was wishful thinking when he walked into Platform 9¾ earlier that day and hoped for the wizards and witches there to somehow be different than non-magical people. (They're called Muggles, said a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Hermione Granger). In the end, they were just Muggles with magic who were just as judgmental of abnormal people.

At least, that's what he thought at first.

Then he met Ron Weasley and his multitude of older brothers, some blood-related and others not so much. Ron hadn't seemed to care that Sephiroth looked different, or that he acted strange, aside from the Window Incident, as it was starting to be called. His brothers had cared even less and Sephiroth clearly remembered Genesis laughing for a least five minutes when he was regaled of Sephiroth's unique way of boarding the train. On the flip side, Angeal had bemoaned living with another maniac for seven years of his life, although he had been smiling nonetheless.

For the first time, Sephiroth experienced kindness from someone other than Harry. He hadn't known that it would affect him so much, but it left him feeling as though the world was suddenly right again. Between Harry trying to steal his books, Genesis attempting to set the door on fire, and Angeal working overtime as the mediator, he felt as though he was a member of a growing family.

There were still people who looked at him with cold eyes, though. As if he wasn't even human. A part of him knew there would always be people like that.

Conscious of himself, Sephiroth tugged on his scarf, pulling it higher around his chin and mouth. It was times like this that was he glad he chose to wear a hat. At the very least, it hid the top of his head and his arching bangs. Honestly, if it weren't for Harry, he probably wouldn't have even come to Hogwarts in the first place. There was absolutely no reason to submit himself to this kind of scrutiny, even for something like magic.

"You're not angry I called you weird?" said Draco Malfoy, utterly baffled. He had the look of a boy had been told something he believed in for a very long time was wrong.

"I can't fault people for thinking I'm strange," said Sephiroth truthfully. He couldn't help but smile wryly.

Draco looked completely taken aback.

"I called you a half-breed earlier!"

There were a couple gasps and indignant voices rising above the suspicious whispers from before, which really wasn't much better. Once their outrage at that word (although he was still unsure of why it was so terrible, as Ron hadn't given a very good explanation) wore down, they would start to wonder if it was true.

"Um, yeah," he said blankly. "You said that when you walked in our compartment. What's a half-breed?"

The group of first years were starting to aim glares at Draco, making Sephiroth think they might not all end up disliking him.

"Oh, er, it's nothing." Draco was avoiding his eyes. "I wasn't thinking."

Sephiroth supposed that was closest Draco was ever going to get to an apology.

"You're Draco Malfoy, yes?" said Sephiroth for confirmation. "I'm Sephiroth Crescent."

"Yeah, that's me," said Draco, finally looking to be in comfortable territory. "I thought you were Potter's brother. Why's your surname different?"

"I'm adopted," said Sephiroth, smiling sheepishly. "Sort of."

"So you're not related," Draco summarized, looking less and less interested.

All the warning bells had pointed toward Draco being a less than savory person beforehand, but Sephiroth had never been very good at heeding them. He was starting to see why Harry told him over and over to listen to those little warnings.

Sephiroth attention on the conversation wavered as he noticed Harry wasn't within sight. Just as he started to frown worriedly, an arm looped around his shoulders and directed him away from Draco. The arm happened to belong to Genesis, who was aiming a dark glare back at Draco, who returned it evenly. Sephiroth, feeling somewhat like he was stuck between a rock and hard place, let himself be dragged away due to wordless bafflement.

Then he saw Harry waiting with Ron and Angeal by Rubeus Hagrid, who was calling for the First Years to follow him. Rubeus Hagrid, who knew exactly how old Sephiroth was and just how much he _wasn't supposed to be there_. If Hagrid noticed him, it was all over before it even began.

Quickly untangling himself from Genesis's arm, he darted behind a group of first years, tugging the hat lower over his head. With a deft motion, he twisted his hair up and shoved it down his shirt. For the first time in his life, he thanked his short height as he kept behind the group of first years the entire hike. His head barely came up to their shoulders, so he had no problem hiding. Harry hadn't come looking for him, so he assumed Harry understood how important it was he wasn't seen.

However, there was still the Sorting Ceremony, which Ron had spoken up in full during the trip. Genesis and Angeal had added their own thoughts on it, ranging from Angeal's sensible personality quiz, to Genesis's fantasies of battling a dragon. If their names were called out in front of the professors, including Hagrid, his cover would be blown.

 _What if his name wasn't called out at all?_

He really hadn't thought this out at all. Moaning to himself, Sephiroth dug his palms into his eyes. This was why he shouldn't let his fear of being alone drive him to do insane things like enroll at a school that had an age limit of eleven years old. Hagrid had expressed how important those letters were, as well. What if there was some kind of magical trace or signature or _something_ that was on the letters and since he didn't have one, he'd be kicked back on the train?

If he was caught, he might never be allowed back at Hogwarts again. He could already picture himself hiding back to London on an empty train, completely alone, doomed to spent most of the next seven years without his brother. _Why hadn't this occurred to him before?_

Just as he was considering breaking down into tears, someone poked his shoulder. He looked up into the annoyed face of Genesis.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Are you hiding?"

 _You have no idea_ , Sephiroth wanted to say.

Instead he said, "I just feel like walking by myself."

"Oh, really?" said Genesis in a tone of voice that made the hair on Sephiroth's neck raise. "I think you looked really scared for a second there."

"Why would I be scared?" said Sephiroth. "I'm really looking forward to Hogwarts!"

He forced a smile that ended up looking more like an agonized grimace. Genesis was clearly very unimpressed with Sephiroth's lying abilities, however he didn't comment. They walked nearly half the trip like that, holding a pensive type of silence that Sephiroth both hated, but was too afraid to break. Genesis didn't strike him as the type to run to a professor and blab if he learned the truth, but he didn't want his secret getting out before the official school year even started. That would be a little pathetic.

For a while, all of his worries melted away as they came within sight of Hogwarts. The castle loomed up in the distance, dark in the dusky blue sky, candles flickering in the windows. It seemed to be sprawled across a mountainside, stony towers rising up toward the sky. By normal standards, a large and mostly darkened castle should have been somewhat frightening, but Hogwarts looked welcoming and undeniably warm in the cool night air.

It wasn't until they neared the boats at the lake's shore, the first starts just appearing in the sky, that Genesis finally broke the silence. When he did, Sephiroth almost jumped in surprise.

"Look, if it's about what I said about the Sorting," said Genesis, guessing entirely wrong, "I was making that up."

Sephiroth wasn't about to let an excuse slip by, though.

"That's a relief," he said with a laugh. He was starting to feel bad for lying. "I was worried I wouldn't be able to pass."

Well, the last part was true.

They were instructed to board the boats, four each, but Sephiroth ended up with only Angeal and Genesis. The number of students to boat was uneven, which worked out in his advantage anyway. Hagrid was at the front, keeping close to Harry, who was valiantly paying as little attention to Sephiroth as possible. Seeming to be suddenly oblivious to his stress, Genesis chattered animatedly about his book as the boats pushed off the shore by their own accord.

"Magic," said Genesis in explanation.

"Oh."

"So, you never did say what House you wanted to be sorted into," said Genesis, stowing his book away.

Apparently something about Genesis, whether it be the position he was sitting in or his facial expression Sephiroth didn't know, worried Angeal. He gave Genesis a warning that he was supposed to at least try and keep from being too mischievous the first week of school. If Genesis heard, he showed no signs.

"Ah, I don't really know," said Sephiroth, eyeing Genesis warily. "Whatever House my brother is sorted into, I guess. . . . What about you?"

Genesis shrugged carelessly.

"I don't really care, to be honest," he said airily. "Anything but Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw sounds nice, but I've heard they're somewhat . . . narrow-minded. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Sephiroth, having absolutely no idea what Genesis was talking about. He hoped it didn't show.

"I have been told my, ah, hobbies lean more towards Gryffindor," said Genesis in a benign way that alarmed Sephiroth.

"Hobbies?" asked Sephiroth, not quite sure he wanted to know.

Genesis grinned fiendishly, rearing a foot up.

"This!"

His boot slammed into Sephiroth's chest and sent him flying over the side of the boat, into the lake.

" _Genesis!_ " Angeal roared.

For a whole two seconds, Sephiroth was submerged. Then he launched for the surface, coughing and spluttering, gasping for breath in panicked bursts. Only one thought permeated his mind as he struggled to keep from slipping under the water's surface again.

 _I can't -_

Angeal reached over and grabbed Sephiroth's arms, who in turn clung to him like cat dumped into a tub. Unfortunately, that left Angeal's back wide open. There was a flash of movement, demonic laughter, and Angeal was crashing into the water on top of Sephiroth. They were both dragged under, Sephiroth coughing and choking as a fist of water shoved its way down his throat.

"Genesis, I swear -" Angeal sputtered, going up and down as he struggled to keep himself and Sephiroth above the surface. "I swear when I'm back up -" he went under again, "- am going to kill you!"

"Sorry, couldn't hear you!" said Genesis, cackling like a maniac.

Angeal growled.

"Sephiroth - would you - I'm trying to swim! You're not helping!"

"I CAN'T SWIM!" Sephiroth howled in Angeal's ear.

"Oh, for the love of -" Angeal heaved Sephiroth up farther, dipping below the surface again.

Genesis sighed, reaching out and grabbing Sephiroth by the back of his uniform, heaving him back on board. A second later, Angeal climbed up as well, dripping wet and thoroughly infuriated. If he got any angrier, the boat would spontaneously burst into flames under them.

There was a moment that Sephiroth couldn't breath, because his scarf had ended up tightly wrapped around his neck during the chaos. He wrestled with the stubborn article of clothing, gasping for breath desperately, while Genesis and Angeal argued back and forth. It was a wonder the two of them had managed to grow up together without one of them committing murder.

"You look like drowned rats," Genesis snorted, laughing into his hand.

"Yeah, whatever, bu I think I saw the Giant Squid," said Angeal darkly.

Genesis twisted around frantically, eyes widened.

"Really? Where? Where is it?!"

"Down there," said Angeal, before giving Genesis and hard shove.

Genesis let out a strangled yelp as he fell in, flailing for a split second before literally _vaulting_ out of the water. He landed back on the boat, shivering and throwing deadly glares at Angeal. Sephiroth, who had managed to tame his scarf, could only blink in bewilderment. He was fairly certain that Genesis just broke a couple laws of physics. The only human being he knew that could pull off something like that was himself.

"What the hell, Angeal?!"

"You started it!"

"So much for your honor!"

"No, that was payback for pushing Sephiroth in!"

"He can take care of himself!" Genesis yelled back. "And since when does honor allow for revenge?"

They were starting to draw attention. Sephiroth slowly stood up, careful not to rock the boat too much. His hat, yet again miraculously stuck to his head, had slipped down so it covered his eyes. Lake water was streaming down his face in rivulets, pooling in his boots.

" _He couldn't swim!_ "

" _How was I supposed to know?!_ "

" _How about not kic -_ "

THUNK.

There was a comically hollow sound as Sephiroth slammed their foreheads together, thoroughly fed up with their attention-grabbing noise. At this point it was nothing short of a miracle that Hagrid hadn't investigated what was causing so much racket. As if that wasn't bad enough, he was soaked to the bone and freezing from the cold night air. If the stress from being caught didn't send him to an early grave, it would be Angeal and Genesis.

Genesis and Angeal looked up at him, a mixture of surprise and annoyance playing across their faces, but Sephiroth couldn't bring himself to care. As far as he was concerned, they could do with another hit to the head. That was around when Genesis's hands literally started to steam.

"You three alright back there?" came the gruff voice of Rubeus Hagrid, ever looking out for the students.

Sephiroth made a nose-dive for the wooden planks, curling up behind Angeal and hissing threateningly when he started to move. A couple seconds passed and neither Genesis or Angeal answered Hagrid's question, so Sephiroth sharply jabbed Genesis in the ribs with his elbow, throwing him a meaningful glare.

Sephiroth really, _really_ didn't like getting wet. He would have been even more irritated if he knew how much like a drowned cat he looked.

"We're fine!" called Genesis.

From then out, it was mostly smooth sailing. Sephiroth spent most of the trip wringing out his scarf, thankful for his higher body temperature. He wasn't nearly as cold as one of the other students would have been, should they have been the ones to fall in the lake. He paused drying himself off to admire the closer view of Hogwarts from the lake, a grand architectural marvel rising above him.

After landing ashore on the other side of the lake, Hagrid lead them up a steep, winding path through a sparse forest. Eventually they arrived at a great stony bridge, which brought them to the final leg of their trek with Hagrid: the doors of Hogwarts.

Sephiroth was careful to hide behind the same bulky first years he had before, right up until they were all filed inside the school and parted ways with Hagrid. He couldn't help but sigh with relief, a little guilty over deceiving Hagrid's good graces, but overjoyed that he was nearly finished with his benevolent infiltration of the school.

Now he just had to hope the sorting process didn't blow the entire operation up in his face. He did not cling to the side of the train and break in through a window, only to end up sent back to the Dursleys because of a magical something-or-other that sensed he didn't belong yet. He would never be able to show his face around Hogwarts, or even to his brother, again - if they even allowed him to enroll. There had to be some kind of special punishment, as Sephiroth refused to believe he was the first ambitious underage child to attempt something like this.

They were introduced to one of their professors, Minerva McGonagall, who taught Transfiguration, was Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Her credentials were rather impressive. She started to give out a lecture on the different houses and a short background history of Hogwarts itself. Having read most of this already in _Hogwarts, A History_ , Sephiroth tuned her voice out in favor of locating Harry in the crowd of first years.

Harry was standing with Ron, throwing glares at Draco, but his features softened into a smile when he noticed Sephiroth watching him. Now that no on in the immediate vicinity knew the truth, it was safe for Sephiroth to stealthily cut across the crowd until he was standing at Harry's side.

A weight lifted that he hadn't known was pressing down on him. He had missed his brother, even if they had been in the same general area the entire time.

"So far so good, yeah?" whispered Harry.

Sephiroth nodded, a faint smile curving his lips.

After the short lecture, they were led over the flagged stone floors and up a giant flight of stairs. Their destination from there seemed to be a small and cramped room, which was incredibly uncomfortable. Sephiroth's sopping boots scuffed against the floor, slowly beginning to feel numb in the cold. It seemed even his heightened body temperature had its limits.

A hand suddenly grabbed his own and Sephiroth started. Harry laughed lightly, shaking his head and stopping Sephiroth from pulling his scarf up around the lower half of his face again.

"Stop being so shy," said Harry, chastising. "You'll never make friends you walk around looking a mummy."

A frown suddenly crossed his face.

"Why are you wet?"

Sephiroth laughed, wracking his brain for a way to evade the explanation. He took one look at the firm expression on Harry's face and knew it was hopeless.

"Ah, I sort of lost my balance," said Sephiroth, skirting around the truth. He noted with a pang that it was getting easier to lie. "And fell in the lake."

"You lost your balance," said Harry flatly.

"Yes."

" _You_ lost your balance," Harry reiterated. "The one who somehow wedges himself between the wall and ceiling to avoid chores?"

Sephiroth chuckled nervously. He really didn't feel like seeing Harry go all protective big-brother-complex on Genesis, especially with Genesis's rumored pyromaniac tendencies.

"Okay," said Harry in a tone that informed Sephiroth they were most definitely not done discussing this, and it would be revisited at a later hour.

Sephiroth felt like groaning.

That was when the students started shrieking and Sephiroth nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. He whirled around, just as several ghosts passed through the wall.

Actual, honest to gods _ghosts_ passed through the wall. Sephiroth had accepted magic existed, but apparently ghosts would have to added onto the long list of things he would need to get used to. He narrowly avoided a ghost passing through him (he swore the ethereal man was doing it on purpose), and the the student in front of him was forced to endure the sensation instead.

He didn't know what disturbed him more, the fact ghosts actually existed or the expression on the student's face as the ghost passed through him. Sephiroth noticed several of the ghosts chatting amiably about someone called Peeves, and decided at that moment they were definitely purposefully frightening them.

It was around that moment when Sephiroth realized he was clinging to Harry's arm with a vice-like grip. Harry looked a little pained.

"Sorry, _aniki_."

Harry, who really ought to have resigned himself to being known as _aniki_ for the rest of his life, sighed.

"The Sorting Ceremony is about to commence," said Professor McGonagall upon her return. Her keen eyes flitted from face to face, before settling on Sephiroth with a frown.

Sephiroth wondered if he looked pathetic enough, if she would dry him off with magic. He was sure they had a spell for drying things instantly. What good would magic be if they didn't?

Instead, she ordered them to line up neatly and follow her to the Great Hall. Sephiroth complied, feeling greatly miffed. Not for the first time, he figured his cursed slitted pupils ruined the abandoned kitten look. Just as he was about to slump into depression, warmth spread through his entire body, his clothing crinkling up before being ironed out.

He blinked, utterly befuddled, and looked up to see Professor McGonagall smiling ever so slightly. Sephiroth pressed his scarf against his face, feeling almost irrationally grateful over the small act of kindness.

They were lined up like tightly packed sardines in front of the Great Hall, hundreds of pale faces staring back up at them from the dim candlelight. Sephiroth had never felt most self-conscious than he did at that moment. He was so much smaller than the rest of the first years, he didn't know if that worked out in his disadvantage or favor anymore, like it had beforehand. Now he was afraid his slight form would draw more attention.

Professor McGonagall pulled out a ratty and tattered old hat, setting in on a low stool. She stepped back, hands folded in front of her, and waited. Sephiroth was envisioning a giant yellow chicken bursting out from the hat and chasing him, sensing he wasn't supposed to be here, when it happened. The hat's brim ripped open, forming a mouth.

Then it began to sing:

" _Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_  
 _I'll eat myself if you can find_  
 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,  
_ _Your top hats sleek and tall,  
_ _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_  
 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_  
 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_  
 _So try me on and I will tell you_  
 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_  
 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_  
 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
_ _Where they are just and loyal,_  
 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_  
 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
_ _if you've a ready mind,_  
 _Where those of wit and learning,_  
 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin  
_ _You'll make your real friends,_  
 _Those cunning folks use any means_  
 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_  
 _And don't get in a flap!_  
 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_  
 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

There was polite applause from the Head Table and the House Tables after the Sorting Hat finished its song. For a second, it looked like the pointed top of the Hat was tipping, as if bowing in response.

Professor McGongall pulled out a piece of parchment, and Sephiroth's stomach dropped.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

Their names were being called out. Sephiroth would bet only the officially registered first years were on that parchment, too.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sephiroth was going to die. Well, not really, but it felt like he was about to die. His heart was pounding, theories filling his head at a frantic rate. He would simply be sent back to London and would have to live out two more years with Dursleys. He would be cursed and never allowed to return. They would all laugh at his pathetic attempt to enroll early. They would -

"Crescent, Sephiroth!"

Hagrid choked on his spit.

Sephiroth didn't move for a whole five seconds. Harry stomped on his foot and he nearly sprinted to the stool. For terrifying second, he forgot entirely what he was supposed to do. Then Professor McGonagall snappily commanded him to sit down.

Nearly collapsing on the stool out of sheer relief, Sephiroth could feel joyous laughter bubbling up in his chest. He suppressed the laughter, because it wouldn't do to be pegged as a nutcase from the very first moment they laid eyes on him.

He could hear whispers rise up from the students, eyes were practically boring into his head. He caught a couple snatches of words, revolving solely around his silver hair and strange eyes, and cringed. The luminous faces were blotted out as the Sorting Hat was placed on his head, slipping over his eyes.

There was something oddly comforting about being sightless. Physical appearances had always been the bane of his existence, so the sensation of experiencing the world through scent and sound was enthralling.

 _Oh, you're a peculiar one_.

Sephiroth didn't start as much as he thought he would, having heard a voice in his head. It was more like a quiet stirring of a foreign consciousness in the back of his mind.

 _Where to put you?_

That was when Sephiroth heard the third voice. It was muffled and faint, like the sound of bells. He couldn't hear what was being said, but apparently the Sorting Hat could. There was a vague humming on the Hat's part, before it seemingly made up its mind on the spot.

 _Then I suppose there is only one House for you_.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Sephiroth pulled the Sorting Hat off, handing it to Professor McGonagall. He walked to the red and golden table, finding an empty space at the very end of the table, away from the rest of the Gryffindor students. They were throwing him wary glances when they thought he couldn't see, and he could easily hear their whispers due to his oversensitive ears. So far, his reception wasn't very promising.

He stared at the golden plate in front of him, then at the empty platters, bowls, and tiered dishes across the table. Soon there would be a feast, judging from the amount of tableware that was set out. Sephiroth smiled faintly, fiddling with the ends of his scarf. Despite the looks he was getting, he couldn't help but feel elated.

He had done it. As of now, Sephiroth was a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, at the tender age of nine years. That _had_ to be a record.

Names were called and first years were Sorted - right up until Harry was called. Sephiroth watched excitedly, hoping and praying that his brother would be sorted into the Gryffindor with him. Harry was seated at the stool, just like every other student before him, and the Hat was placed on his head.

Seconds passed, wearing into minutes. Whispers started to sift through the Great Hall, changing from awe at the fact Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was going to attend school with them to curiosity at what was taking so long.

A worried frown creased Sephiroth's brows as Harry's hands clenched into fists. He recognized the slight downward curve of Harry's lips, frustration written on his tensed shoulders. If Sephiroth had to guess, he would say Harry was arguing with the Sorting Hat. That obviously meant he didn't like the House he was being sorted into.

Then the brim opened again and -

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Sephiroth's shoulders slumped in relief for the umpteenth time.

Harry quickly snatched the Sorting Hat off his head, throwing a look at it like the Hat was a monster, and quickly crossed the room to the house of lions. He dropped next to Sephiroth, still looking troubled.

"What happened?" asked Sephiroth.

Harry started, then grinned broadly. Sephiroth blinked, nonplussed at the sudden change of mood.

"You did it!" said Harry with barely contained glee. "And we're in the same house!"

Sephiroth laughed, despite the worry he had felt only moments before. Harry seemed unable to stop smiling, hooking an arm around Sephiroth's shoulders and pulling him into an elated hug. It was around then that Sephiroth truly figured out the depth of how stressed Harry had been over the entire thing. Sephiroth wasn't the only one who had been sprouting premature gray hairs. (Even though it wouldn't make much a difference in Sephiroth's case, as his hair was already silver).

By the time "Weasley, Angeal!" was called out, Sephiroth thought his stomach was going to commit mutiny against him. He was starving. It had been at least a day and half since his last meal, and he had always required more sustenance than the average nine year old.

When Angeal was sorted into Gryffindor, which really wasn't much a surprise when Sephiroth thought about it, he greeted him weakly. Sephiroth was holding his golden plate, imagining the feast soon to come.

"Weasley, Genesis!"

" _Another Weasley?_ "

"GO BRO!" yelled two identical redheads, grinning impishly.

"What House shall it be?"

"Oh, the mystery of the goddess -"

"No, it's the mystery of the rippled water -"

"- and the wings of wind."

Genesis visibly twitched, taking the Sorting Hat from Professor McGonagall, who looked highly affronted, and slammed in on his head. A couple seconds later, Genesis was sent stomping toward the Gryffindor table.

"You're dead to me," said Genesis heatedly to the redheaded twins.

The twin on the right laid a hand on his chest, appearing deeply wounded.

"You hurt me, brother mine."

"I only hope we can be forgiven," said the other grandly.

Sephiroth coughed to hide a laugh as Ron joined them at the Gryffindor table, looking a little green but smiling triumphantly.

Suddenly there were two redheads sitting on either side of Sephiroth, wearing grins of equal mischief. For a moment, he gaped in confused. Only a couple seconds ago, they were on the other side of the table. Now they were right next to him. _How did that happen?_

The twin on the left reached over and pinched Sephiroth's face without warning, pulling at his cheeks.

"You're so small and cute!" he said with a snicker.

"Like a mouse," said the other.

Sephiroth was turning three different shades of red, out of pure mortification.

"Fred! George!" said Ron, covering his face with a groan. "What are you doing?"

Sephiroth found himself crushed between the two of them into one-armed hugs. They were both snickering slightly. The loyal hat, which had managed to stick him with through an unorthodox train ride and a dunk in the lake, had somehow disappeared. All it took was thirty seconds with the Weasley twins.

" _Aniki_ , help," said Sephiroth plaintively.

Fred - or maybe it was George - let out a laugh, ruffling his hair. They left soon after, throwing a couple comments at Genesis about _Loveless_ that had him spitting death threats their way.

Sephiroth felt disheveled, which was confirmed when Harry reached over, smiling with amusement, to smooth down a couple locks of hair that was sticking up randomly. The encounter was entirely random and unforeseen, but he could see the results it had reaped in the other students. He was no longer on the receiving end wary glances and low whispers. The students had returned to speaking among themselves amiably, and the attention that was shown to him was little more than a humored smile.

Just like that, he no longer felt alienated. It occurred to him with a jolt, that that was the twins' intention from the beginning.

"Nitwit!"

Sephiroth was forcibly dragged from his thoughts. He stared at the Headmaster, who had previously seemed perfectly sane.

"Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" said Professor Dumbledore with his ever-present smile. For a second, Sephiroth could have sworn the Headmaster winked at him.

It looked like he just found out how his name found its way on the list.

With that bizarre speech, the Headmaster sat down to let them feast away. Sephiroth immediately set his plate down, mouth watering in anticipation. His stomach growled again and he flushed lightly.

Sephiroth was expecting the feast of the century, and he was not disappointed. From turkey, to mashed potatoes and full roast chicken, pudding and vegetables and never ending supply of other foods Sephiroth had never seen before in his life, let alone ate, appeared before his eyes. The aromas of several different foods drifted through the air, almost intoxicating. The three-tiered dish was somehow full of food, none of it which Sephiroth recognized.

Within seconds, his plate was full. Then it was empty again. After finishing his first plate, there was only one thing to do. Sephiroth piled up his plate again, scarfing down the food with the efficiency of a vacuum cleaner. By the time fifteen minutes were up, he had cleaned his plate three times over and was still reaching for more.

" _Sephiroth_."

Sephiroth paused, in the middle of reaching for a leg of a chicken (or maybe the _whole_ chicken). He blinked at Harry, the picture of innocence.

"Yes?"

"I think you've eaten enough."

Sephiroth really wanted to whine in protest. There was still _four tables_ full of food and his stomach could easily fit more. However, he could tell by the mildly disturbed looks he was getting from the other students that it wouldn't be appreciated. Sephiroth compromised by sneaking food left and right under his brother's nose.

What Harry didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

The food eventually disappeared and Sephiroth let himself fall against the table, groaning quietly. He had never eaten so much in his life. He probably ate enough to make up for the passed nine years of his life. There were times, when he was locked away with Harry in the cupboard, that he would wonder what it felt like to have a full stomach. Now he knew it felt like bliss.

The feast was abruptly replaced with a couple thousand different types of desserts. Sephiroth's stomach miraculously decided he had room for more.

Harry jumped him.

" _No sugar_."

"But -"

" _No!_ " Harry cried, as Sephiroth eyed a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Simple, a classic, perfect to start out with.

"Just one?"

"The _last_ thing Hogwarts needs is you on a sugar overdose!"

Genesis, who had migrated to Sephiroth's side during the feast, elbowed him harshly. It was probably payback for when they were in the boat. He threw Sephiroth a narrow sideways glance.

"What are you, eight?"

Sephiroth laughed anxiously. Harry, who had him in a headlock, started sputtering excuses. While Harry was distracted, he made a wild grab for the plate of cookies.

Harry intercepted him with surprising deftness.

"You'll set the place on fire!"

"That was only _one time,"_ groaned Sephiroth. "Stop hassling me about it!"

"You went hungry for a week!"

"It was worth it."

All in all, it was the most chaotic day of Sephiroth's life. He spent the rest of the feast wrestling with Harry over the sweets, and quite literally crashed when they were showed to their dormitories. Sephiroth, who was exhausted, had barely acknowledged the splendor of the Gryffindor common room.

When he finally laid back, he could only stare up at the canopy of his four-poster bed, marveling in the feeling of an actual mattress. His hair was in a tangled mess around his waist, mingling freely with the sheets. That night, surrounded by the sleeping forms of seven other boys, Sephiroth felt overwhelming joy. It wasn't even happiness that he would learn magic, something amazing and mystical that he had only read about in fictional books.

From this day on, Sephiroth would never be alone again.

* * *

 **A/N: *Wheezing* That was painful.**

 **As for the sorting of Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal, it was probably incredibly cliche for me to have them all put in Gryffindor. However, I couldn't think of a** **legitimately good reason to have them sorted into separate houses. Sure, Angeal fits a lot of the characteristics of a Hufflepuff, but the only purpose it would serve would be to divide their classes and prevent his character development. Also, if he made friends in Hufflepuff (which he would) it would just make more characters I would have to struggle to characterize correctly and handle. So... In the end, I sorted them, not the Hat.**

 **I saw some people put playlists in their A/N, and I considered doing it to... Until I remembered the music I listened to while writing this was from FNAF. (Die in a Fire, I Got No Time, Left Behind, and Break My Mind if you're curious). ... I don't know what's wrong with me, either. Doesn't really fit the feel... XD**

 **Thank you for your reviews! I love having feedback! I tried to proofread, but if there's any spelling or grammatical errors you spot, point it out for me so I can fix it!**

 **~Ja ne**


	4. Chapter 4

04

When Sephiroth hit the sixth fake wall in under thirty minutes, he finally snapped.

"What is _wrong_ with this place?!"

Harry rubbed his forehead distractedly, glancing around at the staring faces. As soon as his head turned, they all darted away in an attempt to look busy. Neither of them were fooled by the students' attempts at subtlety. Harry still wasn't used to the being-famous thing and Sephiroth didn't need to be his little brother to know. It was clear by the awkward way he purposefully ignored everyone watching him. Sometimes, the whispers were even more conspicuous then when they conversed normally.

It was a novel experience for Sephiroth, walking down a public corridor and not having dozens of eyes on him, mainly due to Harry's popularity. However, at this point, he didn't care if people pointed and laughed at him for the rest of his life. They were running late for school on their very first day, all because the portraits didn't know their way around a school they'd lived in for _decades_ \- perhaps even longer. Sephiroth had wanted to at least attempt to make a good first impression, but it was looking like an impossibility now.

"I think this is it!" Sephiroth exclaimed, yanking open the door.

He stopped just in time to keep from bruising his face on a wall.

"I'm going to kill something."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Let's try going left next time?" he suggested wearily. It wasn't even noon yet and he already wanted to sleep.

"But left had the staircase with the step that eats your foot," protested Sephiroth. "I nearly broke my leg on it!"

"It didn't eat your leg, it's just missing a step," Harry corrected. "And as long as we remember to jump it, we'll be fine."

"Fine, but you're going first," Sephiroth grumbling, sulking.

There was a tiny mewl and a small kitten crawled out from Sephiroth's thick hair, curling up on his shoulder. A pink nose was tucked into his scarf. It was a real-life explosion of _cute_. Sephiroth reached up and scratched Shinra's head, right behind the kitten's ears.

"Yeah, more attention, I know," he said with a smile.

"I can't believe you spent almost ten galleons on it," said Harry in an undertone. He had lived with Sephiroth for six years. He had become desensitized to the cute. "Even Hedwig didn't cost that much - I asked Hagrid."

"Sorry."

"Hey, let's go ask that ghost for directions," said Harry, choosing to ignore his brother's entirely unapologetic tone of voice.

That ghost unfortunately ended up being Peeves, the poltergeist of Hogwarts. It was an experience they wanted to forget, but were probably going to remember for the rest of their lives. And perhaps even relive in their nightmares to come.

By the time their first day was over, Sephiroth was rubbing ink stains off his face and Harry sported bruises from an encounter with a carnivorous throw rug. It wasn't their proudest moment. They were both late for their first classes, which greatly displeased Professor McGonagall, and Sephiroth learned that everyone had just assumed he was something called a Metamorphamagus. When he explained that he wasn't, and that his hair was silver all the time, he attracted as many stares as Harry.

Sephiroth laid down that night feeling spent. Still, there was a tingle of excitement as his mind raced over the lessons he attended, every tip and reminder thrown their way by the professors. The correct way to handle a wand, from the theory of channeling their magic, to the amount of times one could significantly alter an object before its physical quality was greatly reduced.

During Transfiguration, Sephiroth had gleefully turned his matchstick into a senbon. The needle-like acupuncture weapon fit neatly between his fingers and he pilfered several more matchsticks to Transfigure, until both hands were full of senbon. The unfortunate side affect of having projectiles in his hands was that he wanted to throw them at something (or someone) badly. He was something of a natural expert with weaponry and quickly made a game of throwing them at random targets around the room.

It was all fun and games until Professor McGonagall finally caught him as he was flicking senbon into a shape that vaguely resembled a deformed leaf on the side of a wardrobe. She had looked torn between impressed at his accuracy and outrage that he was playing with weapons in her class. Outrage won out and Sephiroth lost ten points. Ten seconds later, he gained five back for several excellent transfiguration spells in a row. He also gained an eternal rival out of Hermione.

The week was almost up when they had their first potions class. It was the class Sephiroth had been looking forward to, although he was a little afraid it would turn out to be a let down, like Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Quirrel turned out to be mortally terrified of Sephiroth and fainted twice when he tried to speak during class. The only upside was that Quirrel was terrified of everything, so the students didn't use this as further proof of his abnormalities.

"We did it!"

Harry grinned, pushing open the doors to the Great Hall.

" _Breakfast_ ," said Sephiroth, darting for the Gryffindor table. He was stopped by Harry, who grabbed his scarf just in time.

"Not so fast," he said. "Try not to scare anyone with your eating habits, will you?"

"The more I eat, the taller I'll grow," said Sephiroth firmly. The logic seemed sound in his head, at least.

Genesis, who had already been waiting at the Gryffindor table, raised an eyebrow. A small part of Sephiroth, which he refused to acknowledge, was a little jealous. He couldn't raise a single eyebrow like Genesis; he just ended up looking like he was in pain.

"Morning," said Angeal as he piled eggs up on his plate.

"Good morning," Harry replied.

Sephiroth grabbed a plate and started loading it - right up until he saw Harry's pointed look. He sighed and worked on creating a mountain on his plate a little slower than normal. He knew Harry didn't really care that he ate enough for an army, or that he did so in ten minutes flat. Since coming to Hogwarts, each of them had relished in the experience of never feeling starved. No numbing pain in their stomachs, resigned waiting for food that would never come. It was paradise.

"I see you finally managed to avoid getting lost," said Genesis idly. He picked at his food, uninterested. _Loveless_ was open and held in his hand.

"I see you're still reading the same book," Sephiroth sniped back. He still hadn't forgiven him for the lake incident. "Only know the words in that book?"

"Too incompetent to read a map?" said Genesis smoothly.

It was something of a morning ritual of theirs to swap insults. Going off the way Angeal was rubbing his forehead, it was starting to give him a migraine. Sephiroth felt a little bad, but not nearly enough to stop rising to every one of Genesis's challenges. The problem was that, deep down, they were both incredibly competitive and neither was likely to back down.

Harry swatted his head lightly, rolling his eyes.

" _Eat_ ," he insisted. "You're the one who was complaining about how hungry you were."

Genesis looked smug. Sephiroth was tempted to throw his plate full of food at him. Harry shot him one look and Sephiroth knew it wouldn't be good for his health if he did.

"Genesis, stop picking fights with Sephiroth," said Angeal.

Genesis looked highly affronted.

"I am not picking fights," he said. "I'm engaged in friendly verbal debate."

"So you're throwing petty insults?"

"That's _not_ what I said!"

"Yeah, it's the simple version of what you said."

Sephiroth felt his eye twitch. They told him not to bicker, but then Angeal and Genesis went and started arguing back and forth like an old married couple.

Harry sighed and turned his attention to Ron, who was sweetening his porridge.

"What have we got today?"

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," replied Ron.

"Snape's the Slytherin House Head, right?" said Sephiroth.

"Yeah," said Ron. "They say he always favors them - we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry.

"Yeah, me too," mumbled Sephiroth.

Harry reached over his plate and poked Sephiroth's forehead, smiling fondly. Sephiroth rubbed the spot, a delicate flush crawling over his face. He wished Harry wouldn't do that in front of people.

"Try to stop acting out in her classes and she might," said Harry lightly.

Sephiroth felt his good mood drain as he was reminded of the small mountain of homework waiting for him back in the dorm room. Once his excitement over learning magic wore off, he was left with the sinking gloom that accompanied homework of any kind, including magical. He had spent a good deal of time working on his first assignment, pouring all of his energy into with with gusto. It was only after he remembered he had ten other assignments, some even longer, to complete.

On top of that, it was due on Monday. Monday was only three days away, and Sephiroth certainly wouldn't be spending his weekend catching up on homework. That meant he would either have to finish it all tonight, or the morning before classes on Monday. If he split the load between today and Monday, the burden might be easier to bear. . . .

"Oi, Seph, look," said Harry, holding out a note. Then he noticed Sephiroth's expression. " . . . Are you alright?"

"Fine," said Sephiroth weakly.

He took the note from Harry, not bothering to life his head off the table. All the energy flooded back into his limbs with a jolt when he realized the note was from Hagrid, who was inviting them for tea at his house.

"He's gonna kill me," said Sephiroth. He restrained the urge to whimper pathetically.

Harry looked confused for a moment, and Sephiroth wanted to shake him and ask _How did you forget so easily?!_ He would have, were they not in the Great Hall. Then understanding dawned on Harry's face and he cringed.

"I'm sure it won't go to terribly," said Harry.

"I want edelweiss on my grave," said Sephiroth very seriously. "And heliotrope."

"You've been paying attention in Herbology, huh?" said Harry as he wrote out a reply. "There, just accepted."

" _What?_ " Sephiroth hissed.

"You can't avoid him forever," stated Harry sagely.

"I beg to differ."

"You rode the outside of Hogwarts Express, but you can't face Hagrid?" asked Harry incredulously.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" asked Sephiroth.

"Never," said Harry.

Sephiroth was spared having to answer by the time, because they had to leave for class at that moment. However, that escape quickly turned sour as it became apparent what Professor Snape thought of his students. Sephiroth could tell it wasn't just the Gryffindors, contrary to what he had been led to believe throughout the week. No, Snape really just hated children in general.

First they had to descend into the dungeons, which was where the potions lesson took place. Sephiroth could tell it was a little chillier down here than the rest of the castle, due to the way Harry pulled his robes closer around his body to ward off the cold air. The dungeons were creepy, with the dripping ceiling and shadows that seemed to cling to every upcoming corner. On top of that, he thought he could hear the lapping of water against stone somewhere far away.

The classroom was a waking nightmare. Sephiroth felt his skin crawl at the sight of the pickled animals, curled up and floating in green liquid. They were labelled in numbers, a couple grotesquely deformed. Something about the animals, left to decay in abandon, made anxiousness stir in his chest. Sephiroth suddenly felt shut in and trapped, helpless. It was the same kind of panicky feeling as when he was locked in the cupboard for a week, separated from Harry. It made him feel desperate and a little sick.

"Harry Potter."

Sephiroth dragged his eyes away from the containers, watching as Snape's unsettling stare zeroed in on Harry. He had zoned out during most the roll call, it seemed.

"Our new - celebrity."

Draco Malfoy, the boy Sephiroth had handed his wand back to, lapsed into quiet and nasty laughter with his friends. At this point, Sephiroth had just about given up on ever getting along with Draco. Every opportunity he had, Draco was throwing comments and insults and managing to succeed in making Sephiroth feel uncomfortable in his own skin. He wondered if it wouldn't be so bad, had he not tried to help Draco that night at the train station.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," said Professor Snape. His voice was hushed and even, hardly raising above a whisper. The other students had to lean in to catch his words, and for once Sephiroth was glad for his hearing. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching . . ."

Sephiroth zoned out again.

Honestly, Snape spoke even more than Genesis. Professor Snape should be happy he managed to hold out even that long. He briefly imagined what it would be like if Snape and Genesis got into a "friendly verbal debate" with each other. It wasn't a pretty mental image.

"Potter!"

Sephiroth almost jumped, tuning back into the lecture.

"What would I get if I added if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

 _What?_

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Sephiroth fumbled through his memories of the potions book they were assigned. He didn't remember reading anything about asphodel or wormwood. However, during a moment of incredible boredom he would never admit to, he did recognize asphodel from a book on _Hanakotoba_ , the Japanese flower language. Asphodel usually had something to do with death.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

However, Sephiroth didn't remember anything about wormwood. Was it even a flower?

"Let's try again," said Professor Snape, unaware of the fact he had entirely lost one of his students. "Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"A goat!" Sephiroth exclaimed, smacking his fist down on his open palm with a smile. Then reality rushed up to greet him with coal-black eyes and greasy hair. "Ah, sorry, sir."

Snape sneered.

"If you are so eager," he said, "then why don't you answer my first question?"

"It's not in the book," Sephiroth replied blankly. He blinked up at Snape. "So I don't know."

"And you didn't think to expand your literary knowledge to other books?" asked Snape.

"Um . . ." All of Sephiroth's thoughts stuttered to a complete halt as he stared into Snape's eyes. The same anxiousness from when he first stepped into the classroom reared its ugly head.

"He only read what was assigned," said Harry, interrupting. There was a distinctly displeased expression on his face. Sephiroth figured Snape had just made a life enemy. "And you cant expect us to remember _over a thousand_ different herbs and fungi in such a short period of time."

Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Two points will be taken from Gryffindor for back-talk," he said coldly. "Now tell me, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Sephiroth knew by the look on Harry's face that he was about to put his foot in his mouth.

"I don't know," said Harry waspishly. "But I think Hermione does, so why don't you try her?"

A couple laughs filled the room. Sephiroth felt his mouth twitch, but his amusement was overridden in fear of what Snape would do in retaliation.

"For your information, Potter," said Snape in the tone of voice that denoted an upcoming info-dump (Sephiroth prepared his parchment and quill), "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Daught of Living Death."

 _Knew it had something to do with death_ , thought Sephiroth smugly.

"A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

 _Aconite_. Sephiroth could have kicked himself. However, he wondered what it meant for there to be potions that used a flower that symbolized misanthropy, a disdain toward all humanity in general. He had already said a bezoar came grom the stomach of a goat - was Snape trying to be rude on purpose?

"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter," added Snape.

He was definitely being rude on purpose.

Sephiroth glanced at Harry, sharing a forlorn expression. In the first week, they had already lost Gryffindor eight points by themselves. Sephiroth's attention was dragged back to Professor Snape as he instructed them to create a cure boils potion, which was supposed to be easy, according to the book. The potion probably would have been easy, too, had Snape not put them in pairs.

Sephiroth was paired with Pansy Parkinson, a boorish Slytherin girl from a pureblood family. From the way her nose was tilted away from his the entire time, he figured she didn't like him very much. Either that, or he smelled nasty, but giving the fact he _knew_ he had just bathed, it couldn't be his hygiene. Whatever caused her to dislike him, he cared little. He was more worried about the fact she refused to interact with him in any way, shape, or form.

When she dropped the herbs for the fifth time because she didn't want to touch his hand, he finally gave into his annoyance and threw her a glare.

"I'm not poisonous," he said in a low hiss. "Now would you give give me the nettles, Parkinson?"

Pansy sneered in his general direction, sliding the nettles over.

"Take them yourself, half-breed," she sniped in an undertone. "I can't believe I was forced to work with someone like _you_."

Sephiroth's eye twitched. He swiped up the herbs and dashed them in the potion, stirring counter-clock wise.

"Just ignore those feelings until after we mix up a good potion?" he said hopefully. "It's both our marks on the line, you know."

"It's not my fault if you mess up," she whispered back.

Sephiroth took a deep breath and chose not to reply. He tried to focus on mixing the potion and rolling her comments off his back, but it was hard with her breathing down his neck. He added another pinch of the dried nettles when the color didn't turn the right shade of teal, watching the darker color spiral into the potion. At any other time, he might have found potions enjoyable.

There was that anxiousness, though. It was gnawing at his insides, filling his limbs with lead and making him lightheaded. He didn't like glowing green jars lining the walls. He didn't like the apathetic way Snape addressed them, how he explained that a single drop of a potion could entrap them in his grip. Something was wrong about this class, but he couldn't figure out what, even for the life of him.

Perhaps it was because he was so lost in thought that he couldn't stop her in time. Sephiroth figured she must have been talking, growing incensed when he didn't reply. Pansy's temper snapped and she snatched up an herb - it was clearly stated in the book not to place this herb in the potion - and dropped it in the cauldron.

The foreign herb dissolved instantly and Sephiroth was about to snap at her, demand _just what was she thinking?_ when the color changed from dark teal to a rich crimson. The color of blood.

Sephiroth's hands froze mid-stir, transfixed. He couldn't tear his eyes away, couldn't move his hands from the volatile color. The potion wasn't supposed to be that color, he needed to fix it quickly, but - _his hands were covered in blood_ \- he hadn't seen the herb she added - _tasted like iron and copper_.

The potion exploded. Burning red pelted his hands and face, pain stabbed through his right eye, and then he really did taste iron and copper. There was a vague feeling of burning. He watched with detached interest as his hands grew boils and started to bleed profusely.

Pansy was shrieking, the class in an uproar.

"Seph? _Seph!_ " Harry shook his shoulders, mindless of the ruined potion burning through Sephiroth's clothing and singing his own hands.

The world snapped back into focus. Sephiroth couldn't see through his right eye, the organ feeling thick and gritty behind his eyelid.

"You _bit -_ " Genesis snarled, his hands smoking. He hand his wand pointed in Pansy's face, a nasty curse already on his tongue.

"That is ENOUGH!" yelled Professor Snape, struggling to regain a semblance of order in the classroom. "Mr. Weasley, take Mr. Crescent to the Hospital Wing."

Ron, Genesis, and Angeal stood up at the same time, and Snape's temple pulsed in fury.

"Mr. _Rhapsodos_ ," he corrected.

Harry went to protest, his face twisted in outrage. He was literally sparking.

"That's my _brother_!"

"Yes, and you thought telling him not to add the quills would make you look good?" said Snape in a sneer. "What a brother you are, Potter. That's two more points you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry's face went red with fury.

" _I would never_ -"

"Harry didn't -" Sephiroth started as well.

"Don't push it," Ron whispered their way. "Snape can turn nasty, so I've heard."

 _How is this not already nasty?_ Sephiroth though. He wiped the potion off his hands, pleased to see the boils had already receded. He still couldn't open his eye, but it should be healed in a couple minutes at the most.

"Let's go," said Genesis, although he said it with the tone of a particularly vicious curse.

"I don't need to go to the Hospital Wing," said Sephiroth, waving them off. When Professor Snape glanced his way, no doubt to snap, his expression cleared in slight surprise. Sephiroth was, indeed, almost entirely healed. "I'd rather not miss my first potions class, sir."

Snape watched him with an unreadable expression, before relenting.

"What?" Harry gaped. "Sephiroth, your eye was bleeding. You need to see the nurse!"

"Potter, if Crescent says he is fine, then he is fine," Snape demurred. He was looking pleased, as if the injuries of his students was entertaining. "And Rhapsodos - a point off for threatening Miss Parkinson."

"That's bullsh -"

"Another point for language."

Genesis looked a second away from combustion.

An hour later, they were gratefully ascending from the darkness of the dungeon, still seething in outrage. Sephiroth was divided between worry at the fact his eye still wasn't functioning correctly (he really didn't want to go to the Hospital Wing) and depression that they had lost twelve points in a single class. Genesis wasn't worried about the points, though. He was going through every curse word in his impressive vocabulary, all directed at their potions professor.

"I think Snape has something against you, _aniki_ ," said Sephiroth idly.

" _That's_ what you're worried about?" replied Harry, incredulous. "Not the part where your potion blew up and your eye started bleeding? What about the part where it was your partner's fault? Or the part where you almost had a panic attack?"

"Panic attack?"

"You froze up," Ron pointed out. "We all saw it."

Sephiroth remembered his mind going fuzzy for a short while, but didn't recall nearly having a panic attack.

"I think I'm going to use that favor Fred and George owe me," said Genesis, scowling darkly. "I need revenge."

"For what?" asked Sephiroth.

"For wh - what do you think?!" Genesis motioned wildly back toward the dungeons. "What Snape and Parkinson did was unforgivable!"

"I wouldn't, Genesis," said Angeal warningly. "Remember who Pansy Parkinson is, and who she's always hanging out with. Their families are powerful."

"What do you mean by powerful?" asked Sephiroth. He knew they were pureblood, but he didn't know exactly how that was an advantage.

"Well, take Malfoy for example," said Angeal. "His father's close with the Minister of Magic. Imagine all the kinds of misery he could make your life if you messed with his son."

"But -"

"Cheer up," said Ron. "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Harry, d'you think I can come and meet Hagrid with you?"

When Harry agreed, Sephiroth felt vague relief. If they were accompanied by other students, Hagrid was less likely to confront him on how - and why - he had ended up at Hogwarts. He wasn't very eager to explain to Hagrid, who tended to worry a lot about the students, himself and Harry in particular, that he did something very dangerous and life-threatening.

Before heading to Hagrid's house, they stopped at the Great Hall for lunch, at Sephiroth's request. Unlike the rest of them, he didn't let Snape's class affect his hearty appetite, which was monstrous as usual. Ron eventually unwound and before they knew it, they had engaged each other in an impromptu food-eating contest. Sephiroth won. The others said he would gain weight with those eating habits - both Harry and Sephiroth thought that was highly unlikely.

"What do you think he uses that crossbow for?" asked Ron as they neared Hagrid's house, at five o'clock on the dot.

"He lives right next to the Forbidden Forest," said Genesis flatly. "What do you think he needs it for?"

"I wonder if werewolves are really in there?" said Harry, staring at the dark canopy of the Forbidden Forest.

"We could explore," suggested Sephiroth. Everyone threw him disbelieving looks. "What?"

"It's the _Forbidden Forest_ ," said Ron weakly. "Monsters and such? A grizzly, horrible death?"

"That was the warning for the third corridor," said Sephiroth. "Not the forest."

He strained his keen eyes to look into the forest, imagining the assortment of creatures that might be living inside. He had heard werewolves lived in there earlier, too. Apparently there were unicorns and centaurs as well. Granted, there was that rumor about giant mutated spiders nesting somewhere in the depths of the forest, which was a little daunting. Sephiroth just really wanted to meet a centaur. Seeing a unicorn would be pretty cool, too - although he'd never tell anyone.

"Sephiroth, you are not exploring the Forbidden Forest," said Harry firmly. "Just - no."

"But -"

"I don't care if you could handle everything in there," said Harry, anticipating Sephiroth's words. " _No_."

Sephiroth stopped himself from pouting just in time.

Genesis snorted in amusement.

"Did the train ride turn into a thrill-seeker?"

Harry looked horrified.

Angeal sighed, raising a hand to knock at Hagrid's door, probably to cut off the argument about to occur. Immediately there was the sound of a four-legged animal scrambling to its feet, barking loudly. Hagrid owned a dog, apparently.

"Back, Fang - back."

Hagrid peered around the door, filling their vision with bushy hair. Ever since Sephiroth found a mouse crawling around in Hagrid's coat, he had always wondered what else was hiding in the multitude of pockets.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

As it turned out, Hagrid didn't own just a dog - he owned a _behemoth_.

Angeal was immediately enraptured with the large black boarhound Hagrid owned, reaching out without fear to stroke its head. They filed in after him, Genesis giving Fang a wide berth, and Sephiroth quickly checked his scarf and pockets to make sure Shinra hadn't tagged along again. He was relieved to find the cat had slipped off at some point, before immediately worrying over where the kitten could have gotten off to.

The house was really a single room, somewhat cluttered but cozy. A fire burned, with a copper pot set over it to boil. There were several jars of varying teas, meats hanging from the roof and several different kinds of weapons hanging from the walls. A flute was hung up above the enormous bed, a couple books stacked up on the patchwork quilt. Sephiroth instantly liked Hagrid's house.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid.

Angeal was still petting Fang, who seemed to be under the misguided impression he was a lapdog. As such, Angeal had an armful of a gigantic dog, slobbering all over his ears. He didn't look very worried about it, though.

"Don't know how you can stand those beasts," mumbled Genesis, who was obviously more of a cat person.

"This is Ron," said Harry. "And his brothers, Angeal and Genesis."

"More Weasleys, eh?" said Hagrid, eyeing them warily. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

"I don't think it's us you need to worry about," said Ron sourly, throwing a glance at Sephiroth.

Sephiroth stared back at him, carefully arranging his face into the picture of innocence. Hagrid threw him a _look_. His hands started to sweat.

"Have fun during your first week?" asked Hagrid lightly, setting down several rock cakes for them. He was looking at Sephiroth as he said this, who flinched. Then he frowned, noticing Sephiroth's closed eye. "Did something happen?"

"Accident in Potions," said Sephiroth quickly.

"Suppose yeh didn't get any trouble at the train station?" said Hagrid, making Sephiroth choke on his bite of rock cake.

"Ah, well . . ."

"He ran into my brother," said Ron, looking embarrassed. "Percy wouldn't let him on board, because he looks really young."

"So he boarded from the outside," said Genesis, laughing at the memory.

Sephiroth felt what hope that he would leave Hagrid's house without a lecture crumble and die.

"From the outside?" came Hagrid's nonplussed exclamation.

"Yeah," said Genesis. "The train was at full-tilt and he was jumping from window to window like a -"

" _Well_ , the point is that nothing went wrong and here I am!" said Sephiroth, forcing a smile.

Hagrid rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"And here I thought Fred and George were a handful," he said. "Well, you're here. Dumbledore has his reasons, wise man . . ."

"Dumbledore?" said Genesis, confused. "What's he got to do with Sephiroth?"

" _Nothing!_ " said Sephiroth, shoving one of his rock cakes at Genesis. "I'm not hungry. You can have it."

"We never told you about our first week, right?" said Harry with a surprising amount of smoothness. He and Ron proceeded to tell Hagrid all about their first week, the lessons, teachers, Filch (because he needed a category of his own), and Filch's cat. Sephiroth managed to forget his nervousness when Hagrid referred to Filch as "that old git," which was very fitting.

"He's evil," said Harry, scowling as they recounted Snape's lesson.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid unconvincingly, before engaging Ron in a conversation about his brother, Charlie, who was studying dragons in Romania. If Ron noticed the switch in topic, he didn't mention it.

Sephiroth's attention was caught by a newspaper cutting from the _Daily Prophet_ , which Harry was reading thoroughly, his face drawn into a frown.

"What is it?" he asked, hovering over Harry's shoulder.

"Someone broke into Gringotts on my birthday," said Harry, eyes wide. "It might've even happened while we were there."

Sephiroth remembered the dark vaults and break-neck speeds of the cart that led them through the catacombs of Gringotts Bank. He shuddered.

"Hagrid won't tell me anything about it," said Harry quietly. "And he's definitely hiding something about Snape."

"Yeah, probably how much he doesn't like him," said Sephiroth.

Harry threw him a look that said, _You know what I'm talking about_.

Sephiroth shrugged in response. He couldn't help but feel pity for Hagrid, after seeing the expression on his brother's face. It was clear Harry had merely put the discussion about the Gringott's break-in on pause, not dropped it completely. Sometimes Harry could be like a dog with a bone. Sephiroth remembered a time when Harry would fuss over every single bruise and scrape he received.

Now that he was thinking about it, Sephiroth remembered Harry questioning him about a bruise that morning. Apparently Harry had never really stopped obsessively worrying about him. Granted, he didn't help matters much, with his general lack of self-preservation. Sephiroth trusted his healing factor enough to pull off the idiotic stunts he was dared to do. It was Fred and George's fault.

When they finally made their way back to the castle, dusk was falling. Sephiroth's stomach gave a rumble, and Harry, Genesis, Ron, and Angeal threw him disbelieving looks. He scowled defensively.

"What? We were there for _hours_ and all Hagrid serves is rock cakes!"

"You have a problem," said Ron.

"Do you have a parasite or something?" said Genesis.

"A stomach monster?" added Angeal.

Sephiroth spluttered indignantly.

"What? You three eat a lot, too!" He stabbed a finger at Ron. "You especially!"

"Yeah, mate," said Ron, "but I don't eat a truck-load three or four times a day."

"I have a high metabolism!"

"You're a glutton," deadpanned Genesis.

"I am _not_!"

"Will you two shut it?" said Angeal warningly. "Just because we're technically out before curfew doesn't mean we can't get in trouble."

"We're doomed if we run into Filch," said Harry.

"You mean "that git"?" said Ron with a grin.

A cat's _meow_ sounded through the hallway they walked down, and all five of them froze in place. Then a tiny black and white bundle of fur crawled up to Sephiroth's feet, mewling insistently.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, scooping Shinra up into his hands. "I was worried, you know."

They stopped again at the room full of moving stairs, Genesis and Angeal turning to give them farewells for the night. The two of them wanted to get most of their homework done before the weekend, which was actually a great idea. Sephiroth should have done his homework earlier (he had nearly the entire week's piled up in the dormitory), but the mental image of a warm dinner was more appealing than the work awaiting him.

For a moment, he felt utterly torn. That tug in his gut from before, something akin to anxiousness, stirred to life again. Their backs were facing him, walking away. They were only going to the common room to finish up their homework, and yet -

 _Don't go._ The thought came unbidden and shocked him.

"Sephiroth?" came Harry's worried voice.

His hand was suspended halfway up, as if reaching toward Genesis and Angeal. He didn't remember raising it.

Harry gave his shoulder a small shake.

"Do you still want to grab a bite?" he asked.

It was as if his tongue was stuck, leaving Sephiroth staring dumbly. Harry was already a good way down the corridor, having thought Sephiroth was following him. He had stopped when he noticed otherwise.

"Don't look surprised," Harry said with a laugh. "Someone's got to make sure you don't overdo it."

Sephiroth stuffed away the ominous feelings he had experienced, from Snape's class to watching Genesis and Angeal walk away. Whatever was causing them, he could worry about it later. The last thing he wanted was Harry to start being concerned over him again, too.

"Yeah!" he said, running to catch up with Harry.

* * *

 **Outtake: Or Sephiroth Gets His Wand**

That night after the Sorting Ceremony feast, Sephiroth settled into bed feeling more content then ever before in his life. At least, he did for the entirety of two minutes, before that niggling feeling raised inside of him. The _Did you turn off the bathroom light?_ feeling of doubt, mixed with _Are you sure the front and back_ _doors really locked?_

Sephiroth's eyes snapped open and he lunged for his trunk. Five minutes of frantic pawing later and he confirmed that sinking feeling of doom to be true. He had all his books, his uniform, cauldron, everything he needed for the school year - except for his wand. Of _all_ the things he could have forgotten, it just had to be his wand. It wasn't as though he could go up and ask Professor McGonagall if it was alright for him to borrow her wand during class.

It took him a while to snap out of panicky daze, stomach doing sickening flips and his food threatening to come back up. This was a disaster. He could have _sworn_ he bought a wand, but apparently it slipped his mind. Sephiroth tore at his hair. He had been preparing to go to a _magic_ school, with _magic_ people, who used _magic_ on a daily basis, and he forgot his _magic wand?!_

Desperation flooded him. He did _not_ risk life and limb to enroll at Hogwarts, only to end up kicked out because he forgot his wand. Standing, he eyed the sleeping forms of his fellow year mates. He didn't even consider Genesis, who was far too nosy, or Angeal, who was a bit of a wild card. Harry would probably flip his lid and everything would go up in smoke - he didn't know Neville, Dean, or Seamus well enough to ask. That only left one person.

Sephiroth nudged Ron's side. When he didn't wake up, Sephiroth abandoned all gentle pretenses and harshly jerked him back and forth.

" _Wake up_!" he hissed. He considered jumping on Ron's stomach for a second, before Ron stirred lazily.

"Merrgur?" came the slurred mumble.

"Do you know of any ways to instantly transport out of Hogwarts to, I don't know, Ollivander's?" asked Sephiroth.

Ron blinked wearily. "Eh?"

" _Answer the question!_ "

"You can Apparate . . ." said Ron, yawning. His eyelids seemed to be magnetically drawn closed. Sephiroth gave him another merciless shake.

"How do you Apparate?"

"Gotta be . . . seventeen," said Ron, rubbing his eyes. He was starting to look annoyed.

Sephiroth's eye twitched. "I'm not seventeen. Try again."

"Floo?"

"What?"

"Get Floo powder, jump in fireplace, say where you want to go," said Ron, trying to turn over to sleep. Sephiroth confiscated his blankets. "Bloody hell, I'm trying to slee -"

"Wake up my brother, and I will hurt you," said Sephiroth. "So I can use the Floo?"

"Yeah, but -"

"Okay, thanks, bye!"

If one were to ask Sephiroth later, he wouldn't be able to explain how he managed to get from the Gryffindor common room, to Professor McGonagall's office, without getting caught once. However, it did include a lot of begging when he ran into Mrs. Norris, bribes, and the curious ability to wedge himself in the ceiling corner when McGonagall returned to her office for a stack of paperwork she forgot to file.

 _I'm a ninja_ , thought Sephiroth with no small about of giddiness when he dropped from the ceiling. He darted to the fireplace, but stopped, realizing he had absolutely no idea what Floo powder looked like. Also, he didn't bring anything to buy the wand with - was Ollivander's even open at this time of night?

Sephiroth reached into his pockets, vaguely remembering he had put the small pouch of galleons there earlier, but his hand closed around something long and thin instead.

He pulled out a wand. The memory of buying it came flooding back to him. It he wasn't so annoyed that he had been yanked from his fitful sleep, trekked across the entire school, argued with a cat, and forced to hide from his teacher, he might have been relieved. All he could feel was intense, potent irritation.

 _Cedar, phoenix feather core, twelve and a half inches, and somewhat flexible._ Mr. Ollivander had seemed somewhat bemused by the combination.

Sephiroth could care less if he wand was special or not. Now he was going to have to get back to the Gryffindor common room without being caught, and he was no longer running on adrenaline. He was almost caught three times on the way back, and blanked out on the password when he finally reached the common room.

By the time he laid his head down again to sleep, the horizon was starting to light with the earliest signs of morning. And so, Sephiroth slept about three hours before he was woken again for classes. It was not a productive night.

* * *

 **A/N: The outtake was inspired by Kairitrion Cerulean, who's given tons of support! Thanks a bunch!**

 **In case anyone's curious about the other character's wands:**

 **Genesis: Elm, dragon heartstrings, twelve and three-quarters inches, unyielding.**

 **Angeal: English Oak, unicorn hair, eleven inches, and supple.**

 **I tried to drag in the plot a little here, but plots just aren't my strong suit. I prefer character ex** **ploration and stuff. (Read: fluff. Fluff dashed with angst, but still fluff). Little bits of Sephiroth's previous life are cropping up in feelings, because I really don't think a reset memory and new environment would be enough to complete erase that kind of trauma.**

 **AND BEFORE I FORGET! Apparently there's something called a disclaimer here, because the name FANfiction isn't clear enough to allude to these stories being, you know, FAN-made. By FANS. Who don't own the original material. But what the hell, I'm not a lawyer. I do not own Harry Potter, property of J.K Rowling (bless her heart), or Final Fantasy VII, property of Square (now Square Enix).**

 **You will not see me doing that again.**

 **If there's any grammar or spelling errors, feel free to point them out so I can fix them!**


	5. Chapter 5

05

Out of all the classes he took, Sephiroth liked Professor Spout's the most. There were a couple reasons why, the foremost being how little hassle she threw in her classes. Much like Professor McGonagall's class, she brought them there to teach them Herbology, and they learned Herbology without fail. The major difference was that, unlike Professor McGonagall's class, Professor Sprout didn't drown them in homework. She would want a short description of a couple leaves and flowers, a sketch of their very best, and she would give them a kind smile when they turned their work in. Sephiroth liked Professor McGonagall for how frank she was about everything, but Professor Sprout was his favorite teacher.

Devil's Snare was a little tricky, but he was fast enough to avoid becoming entangled in the grasping vines. The other students, including his brother, weren't so lucky when dealing with the ornery plants. Genesis had already set several of them on fire when Professor Sprout wasn't looking, although she had figured out who was setting fires when the fifth one cropped up around Genesis only. After that, he was told to stop starting fires, or else she would dock points. Genesis stopped setting fires.

That was another reason Professor Sprout was at the top of Sephiroth's favorite professors list: she warned them before taking points. They knew to stop whatever they were doing, or just to make sure they were not caught again.

Even so, Genesis's fire was effective. The Devil's Snare was weak to sunlight and flames, so it steered clear of him for the rest of the class. Unfortunately for Angeal, who was standing right next to him, that meant he was the new target for Genesis's assigned plant. Sephiroth watched in morbid fascination as Angeal grabbed the Devil's Snare and roped them together, knotting the vines several times over before throwing it at Malfoy, who yelped loudly.

Ron snickered and Harry's frustrated expression broke into a slight smile. It was a less than productive day in the greenhouse, and they lost quite a few points. However, as Genesis would put it later, it was completely worth it. The only one other than Professor Sprout who seemed halfway worried about the plants was Neville Longbottom, who meticulously tended to each and every vine the students refused to touch. Sephiroth found it admirable, albeit in an odd way.

Once classes were over for the day, he wracked up as much motivation as he physically could for homework and trudged for the Gryffindor common room. He did _not_ want a repeat of Professor McGonagall lecturing him over his halfhearted, borderline late parchment that he turned in last week. There were very few things in the world that were more terrifying then Professor Snape's furious face, one of them being Professor McGonagall's irate (yes, just _irate_ ) face. She really took their homework assignments seriously.

As he was nearing the tower full of moving staircases, having avoided several of the fake doors again, Genesis and Angeal accosted him. Each with an arm wrapped around his shoulders, grinning in a way that Sephiroth _knew_ meant they were up to no good, they ignored his protests until they were a good distance away from the common room. He couldn't believe he was demanding they let him go to do his _homework_ , but he really did need to finish it.

"You don't want to do homework, I don't want to," said Genesis. "So let's have some fun, yes?"

"Fun?" said Sephiroth warily.

Angeal arched an eyebrow (jealously twinged, Sephiroth _still_ couldn't pull that off).

"Yes, fun," he said. "That's what friends do, you know."

Sephiroth tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest when Angeal said friends. He had known, in some part of him that somewhat understood regular human behavior, that they were friends. However, to hear them acknowledge it was different, even better.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

Genesis's grin was wolfish.

"Ever ridden a broom before?"

"Oh, no way in _he_ -"

Angeal clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Your brother will tear us apart limb from limb if he finds out you're learning that kind of language from us," he said warningly. "Doesn't matter he's not at the top of the class, like Genesis. Or Granger, or you. He'll find a way."

Sephiroth threw him a confused look, shaking off his hand. They had long since released his shoulders, standing around him. Genesis's expression was unreadable, but Angeal looked a little unnerved.

"There's nothing scary about _aniki_ ," said Sephiroth.

"Tell that to the sun glinting off his glasses when he's angry," mumbled Genesis.

Understanding dawned and Sephiroth had to fight off a smirk.

"He found out you kicked me in the lake, didn't he?" he said, fighting off a vindicated snicker.

"Of course not!" Genesis blustered.

"Yes, he did," said Angeal at the same time.

They looked at each other.

"Don't lie -"

"I'm not lying, you're just -"

"It's not speculation, it's the truth -"

"You had _no idea_ what I was going to say, don't -"

"I've known you long enough not to pretend."

Genesis gaped at him, imitating a grounded fish for a couple seconds. Then he shook his head, glaring profusely, and turned back to Sephiroth.

"Never mind that -"

Sephiroth bit his cheek to keep from smiling. He wondered if Harry just "talked" to them, or if he tried to throw anything.

"- we're going to the Quidditch Pitch to test out the brooms," said Genesis, unaware of Sephiroth's amusement; or ignoring it, at least.

Sephiroth's humor drained quickly. They wanted to try out the brooms and fly around, but he had never flown in his life, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to learn. He had heard the horror stories from Fred and George, about Quidditch players that went missing for months on end, only to show up in _pieces_ in the Sahara Desert, or to never to be found at all. While he wasn't sure how much of their tales was fact, or fiction, or if any of it was real, the stories stuck like glue. It didn't help that they were such captivating stories tellers, either.

"Now that that's settled," said Genesis, which alarmed Sephiroth because he had _no idea_ what was just settled, "let's go!"

Just like that, he was hauled away. Sephiroth was feeling a little like a rag doll by now, led around by a scarily eager Genesis. The last time Genesis laughed like that, he was treading water shortly after. He hadn't learned how to swim since then, nor did he feel like learning. While flying brooms had nothing to do with swimming, Sephiroth wouldn't put it passed Genesis to try to kick him in again. Or maybe not, as the memory of a rather furious Harry Potter might compel him not to try anything dangerous - hopefully.

Compelled or not, as soon as Sephiroth was stopped in front of the cupboard full of brooms, his stomach dropped to the ground. He didn't really feel excited about flying, unlike the other students in his classes, who were talking about Quidditch almost every hour of every day. Sephiroth liked his feet planted firmly on the ground, _thank you very much_.

"It's not difficult," said Genesis confidently. "I've ridden brooms before, you'll be a natural. I've seen your reflexes and it wouldn't be a shocker if Wood tried to recruit you, first year or not."

Sephiroth imagined himself flying in the air, deadly projectiles zooming by his head, and then waking up in the middle of a desert with no food or water. He decided right then and there that story-time with Fred and George had to stop.

"Are you sure?" he asked, despite himself.

Genesis snickered, giving him a good-natured jab on the side.

"Stop worrying so much," he said. "If you can -"

"Mention the train again and I will hurt you."

Angeal stepped back, the lock clicking and the doors of the cupboard swung open. He had a vaguely satisfied look on his face. Sephiroth couldn't help but gape in shock.

"You can pick locks?" he exclaimed.

"Keep it down," said Angeal, waving him off. "And yeah. Comes in handy, magic or not."

"But I thought -" Sephiroth cut himself, throwing a look at Genesis, who only laughed.

"Do you honestly think I could get away with _half_ the things I do without help?" he asked. "Fred has George and vice versa - Angeal and I have each other."

 _Harry would kill me_ , Sephiroth noted inwardly.

There was no way he could get into mischief like this with his brother. Harry was no rule-keeper like Hermione Granger, but he certainly wouldn't take joy out of picking locks and stuffing dung bombs in the professors' offices. Fred and George really did try to mail a toilet seat to their parents, as well. Sephiroth could picture the look on the Dursleys' faces if he were to send them something like that in the post. It would be nothing short of priceless.

"But," said Genesis, ruffling Sephiroth's hair and making him scowl, "it doesn't hurt to have a look-out, you know?"

The scowl melted off his face and Sephiroth found himself hard-pressed not to smile elatedly.

"Dear goddess, you're such a little kid," said Genesis.

Sephiroth was about to kick him in the shins and assure Genesis he was most definitely _not_ a child, but didn't have the chance as Angeal pulled out three brooms, stuffing one in his arms. Angeal always seemed to have the perfect timing like that. Sephiroth was sure he did it on purpose, too, reaffirming the fact that despite him being the lock picker and accomplice, he was still the grown up one of the duo.

Minutes later, they were out in the grounds with their pilfered broomsticks, having avoided teachers and the students most likely to rat them out. Sephiroth had adamantly protested them practicing near the lake, despite Genesis telling him it would be an excellent excuse to learn swimming. After several minutes of arguing, they ended up much closer to the Forbidden Forest than Genesis had wanted, and not as far from the lake as Sephiroth was comfortable. It was a "healthy medium" as Angeal put it.

"Traitor," mumbled Genesis.

"Who's the kid?" Sephiroth shot back.

"Why you -"

"First step of flying," said Angeal, raising his voice over theirs pointedly, "is mounting the broom."

"I'm sure he can figure that part out," said Genesis, rolling his eyes. "As I said, it's very simple. You should probably try to call it up first, though. It helps you get a feel for controlling the broomstick."

Sephiroth stared at him blankly.

Genesis sighed, letting his broomstick fall to the ground with a thunk. He held his hand above and intoned sharply, "Up!"

The broom smacked into the palm of his hand.

"Just like that," said Angeal, nodding in affirmation. "You try now, Seph."

What little sourness Sephiroth held from being called a child completely drained away under the feeling of being in a circle of friends for the first time. He let his broom drop, as Genesis had, and commanded it _"Up!_ " into his hand. Unlike Genesis, nothing happened.

"Ah, that's not unusual," said Angeal, sounding baffled.

"I've never had that issue before," said Genesis.

Sephiroth's scowl returned.

"So is it unusual or not?" he asked.

"No."

"I didn't have that problem, so yes."

Angeal and Genesis glared at each other.

Sensing another argument on the horizon, Sephiroth turned his attention to the stubborn broomstick. It lay on the ground innocently, as if just as confused as Sephiroth over why it wouldn't rise. He sighed and tried again - and again - Genesis and Angeal were having a stare down - and he ordered the broom again.

"Why won't you - _up!_ " Sephiroth nearly jumped and fumbled with the broom as if finally leapt up into his outstretched hand. "Thank you."

"But the broom never - oh, you finally got it?" said Genesis, breaking off mid-argument with Angeal.

Within seconds, the stormy expressions disappeared and they were at peace again. They seemed able to do that rather easily, going from strangling each other to speaking amiably in no time at all. Honestly, it seemed a little strange to Sephiroth, but he didn't know much about friendship in general. Strange or not, they were his friends. It didn't matter who they were or how they acted, as long as they were his friends, he didn't care.

"Now what?" he asked.

From there on, they meticulously went over every step of flying, carefully instructing him. Despite their previous assurances that it was easy and definitely not dangerous _at all_ , they seemed focused on ensuring he didn't fly farther than three feet off the ground. He wasn't sure if he was touched they cared that much, or annoyed at how little faith they had in his abilities.

"Well, we don't want you to fall," said Genesis, smirking.

"I'm not going to fall!" snapped Sephiroth, annoyance winning out.

"But -"

"Angeal, I'll be _fine._ "

Honestly, a couple minutes ago they wanted to teach him how to fly _over the lake_ , when they knew he couldn't swim.

"It's just, flying came naturally to us," said Angeal in an apologetic tone. "How do I put this . . ."

"You are not a natural flier, so he doesn't want you falling and breaking your neck because he didn't teach you good enough," said Genesis bluntly.

 _I clearly remember him saying something about incredible reflexes_ , Sephiroth thought irritably.

"Alright, see that tree?" said Angeal, pointing at a very large tree roughly a hundred meters ahead of them. The branches were thick and club-like, swaying smoothly despite their size. "We'll fly with you there. If you can do that without falling off or anything, you've got the basics down."

Genesis grinned, jumping onto his broom and immediately lunging into the air.

"It's _not_ a race," said Angeal, looking at Genesis and Sephiroth.

Sephiroth almost asked out loud when he became the reckless one, but thought better of it. He was really getting sick and tired of being reminded of his wilder stunts. Not to mention, he was the one who propositioned they take an exploratory hike through the Forbidden Forest, so he really had no leg to stand on in that particular subject. It wasn't that he wanted to do anything life-threatening, just that he was sporting a deadly curiosity that had evolved into the question: who really was the faster runner, himself or a centaur?

Apparently centaurs didn't like human beings in general, so attempting to find the answer to that question classified as _dangerous_ \- at least according to his brother. Sephiroth almost took a mental step back and asked himself, _When did I become such a thrill-seeker?_ but immediately discarded the question. Just because he fantasized getting into a fight with an Acromantula (or maybe a couple of them) and wanted to race centaurs didn't make him a thrill-seeker. He was leery over flying, so that had to count for something. Right?

As soon as Sephiroth took off into the air with Genesis, he knew that, contrary to Angeal's precautionary words, this was definitely a race. Genesis pulled ahead, and when Sephiroth tried to match him, he quickly sped up. Things only escalated from there.

What happened next could have been used as a superb example of why rivalries were so unproductive to one's health. Looking back, Sephiroth should have known better, seeing as the tree's branches, each thicker than he was wide, were swaying gracefully in a non-existent wind. As it turned out, the tree they were all racing toward (because even Angeal, by this point, was speeding as fast as he could to keep up with them) just happened to be very ornery, spiteful, and _sentient._ Also, it didn't appear to appreciate being used as a finishing line.

Sephiroth and Genesis drew short of the tree, hovering inches away from its long branches. Any arguments over who really won, or if it was a tie or not, died before they were even voiced. Genesis seemed a little unnerved by the way a branch, roughly three times his size, was swishing gently. Branches the size of normal tree trunks just didn't do that. The tufts of bird feathers sticking to random branches did nothing to cure the ominous atmosphere. However, ominous or not, it was just a tree.

That was what Sephiroth told himself, at least. And it was because of that thought, when the whip-like branch reared around, he didn't see it. The only warning he received was a startled intake of breath from Angeal - the beginnings of a shout from Genesis.

Pain erupted in the side of his head and sent him careening into the ground. Spots and lights flashed in his vision, he could vaguely hear Genesis and Angeal shouting, distorted as if from underwater, and everything went dark. Or, more accurately, the world winked out for a second.

Reality blurred in that second and faded from his grasp. Sephiroth didn't experience the feeling of "losing consciousness," as he had read in many books. It was more of a waking up feeling as opposed to falling asleep, closing his eyes and then opening them to find himself standing in nothingness. He felt weightless, as if he was falling, and yet he was sure he was motionless. All that surrounded him was blankness, a vast white void that seemed to swallow him up and leave his lungs bereft of oxygen. It was as if he was being crushed from all sides.

For several horrifying moments, he was sure he was going to die in silence and utterly _alone_. The void was going to devour him, tear him to shreds and leave nothing but a fleeting memory. Panic flashed again and suddenly he doubted if he was even real, because maybe he was going insane and nothing was true. He couldn't move, didn't even know if he was breathing anymore, but he was sure he needed to breathe because he felt lightheaded. He was locked away and couldn't see or hear _or breathe or -_

There was a faint sigh, someone giving a gentle laugh, and a pair of hands clasped his shoulders. Sephiroth felt rooted and would have leaned into the touch, could he move at all. Movement or not, the whiteness no longer felt quite so suffocating.

"I didn't expect to see you here so soon," came a girl's - or a maybe a young woman's - voice. "You really ought to work on your spacial awareness."

"The tree -" and he could talk. Since when could he talk? "The tree came out of no where. Where is this?"

His thoughts were disjointed and it was showing in his speech.

The girl's grip tightened on his shoulders, reassuring, before slackening again. For a second he was afraid that anchor would disappear, but she kept hold.

"You're scared," she said quietly. "Don't be."

Sephiroth tried. He really did, but his heart didn't stop pounding any less frantically.

"This is really the safest place you can be," she said. "A little place in your own mind, tucked away. A last resort, I guess you could say. A sanctuary."

"Why am I here?" he asked, before the important question slipped out. "Is this real?"

"It'll make sense, one day," said the girl soothingly and somehow familiarly. "For now . . . don't you have something you should be doing?"

And because that made no sense whatsoever, his mind spinning in confusion, he blurted out the first thing on his mind.

"Homework?"

The girl laughed and her hands slipped off his shoulders, his anchor gone. He was alone again and his presence was fading into the void. Terror clawed up inside him again, weightlessness taking over, and he was sure that he was falling. And inside all of that panic and fear, somehow he could still hear her telling him, over and over, _Don't be afraid_. How he could he not be afraid, he wanted to know, when he was falling from no where, sightless and scentless, his lungs frozen in his chest?

And that was when Sephiroth knew the feeling of unconsciousness.

* * *

"Wake up!"

" _Sephiroth!_ "

Luminescent green eyes flew open and Sephiroth gasped, reaching out blindly for anything - _anything at all_ \- to grab onto. Instead he found hands supporting his back and shoulders, lifting him into a sitting position, and witnessed the alarmed faces of Genesis and Angeal. They were several hundred meters away from the vicious tree at fault for this entire mess, and a shattered broomstick lay at his side. Vaguely, hysterically, he wondered if one of them were going to have to pay to replace it.

Their mouths were moving and he knew they were saying something, but he couldn't make out any words. His hands grabbed at the earth, twisting around the grass and pulling lightly. It was real, the grass was real, _he was real_. He stayed still, letting the different scents carried by the wind fly by him, rustling of the trees and feeling of Angeal and Genesis supporting him acting as his new anchor to sanity.

Something metallic and wet dripped down his face and he reached up, his fingers coming away slick with blood. Head injuries always bled a great deal, even if they weren't overly serious. His eyes swam and suddenly his hands were drenched in blood and dripping, he could smell burning and fear and - the world flashed back into view, Genesis shaking his shoulder, looking very pale. He knew he was having hard time focusing and it was probably, no, definitely, because of that head injury. Rationalizing it didn't make focusing any less impossible.

"Hospital Wing," said Angeal tersely.

Genesis nodded, wordless for once, and pulled one of Sephiroth's arms over his shoulders. Angeal did the same on the other side, the both of them ignoring Sephiroth's assurances that he would be fine in a couple minutes.

"No, really," said Sephiroth as they neared the castle courtyard. "It'll heal overnight and think about it - you'll have to explain, and we'll get in trouble -"

"I don't really care at this point," said Genesis, throwing him a dark glare, as if silently telling Sephiroth to _sort out_ what was important. Really, Sephiroth thought avoiding Professor McGonagall's wrath was fairly important. "You are incoherent and in pain -"

It didn't hurt very much, it really didn't. Sephiroth couldn't say much for the incoherent part, because he was still debating on whether or not that girl was a hallucination. That still didn't mean he felt like facing Professor McGonagall and explaining they stole several brooms and tried to fly and - _they were so dead when she found out_.

"We're going to get expelled," moaned Sephiroth. "We don't have to tell them about the brooms, yeah? Just the bloodthirsty tree."

"I'll say it again: bleeding out and incoherent, and you're worried about being expelled."

"Probably suffering a concussion, too," added Angeal helpfully.

"I'm not concussed," protested Sephiroth.

Genesis scoffed, repositioning Sephiroth's arm.

"You were unconscious at least five minutes," he said. "That's definitely at least a mild concussion."

"Definitely is _no_ -"

"What _happened?!_ " exclaimed the voice of one Harry Potter.

Sephiroth could almost see Genesis and Angeal's lives pass before their eyes.

There was a harried look in Harry's face that made Sephiroth think he had probably just come out of another incident with Malfoy, coupled with that familiar worry he always adopted whenever Sephiroth was missing longer than a half hour. Sephiroth looped the reaction to his disappearance around in his head a couple times, and was a little embarrassed to find it entirely justified. He really didn't part from Harry very much and when he did, it was usually no longer than a half hour. He had never really noticed it, because they had literally spent all their time together at the Dursleys' house before coming to Hogwarts.

"It was - there was this tree -"

So apparently they were willing to explain the truth to _Professor McGonagall_ , who could dock points and expel them, but not Harry, who was just a fellow first year student. Taking another look at the murderous expression on Harry's face, Sephiroth suddenly understood their reactions. Professor McGonagall was probably less likely to tear her students apart limb from limb than an irate Harry Potter. That was around when he realized he should probably held explain as well, unless he wanted to lose his friends via homicide committed by his brother.

Around five minutes later, they finished recounting everything that had happened. Ron had showed up around halfway through the explanation, looking impressed when he heard Angeal had picked the lock - which quickly melted off his face when he noticed Harry's thunderous expression. By the time they stopped reassuring Harry that it really wasn't too bad, that they had been careful the entire time, and the unsaid but clearly heard _So you definitely shouldn't kill us_ , Sephiroth's head had scabbed over. His eyes were clear, feeling lucid again.

Honestly, Sephiroth really wanted to know what Harry did to them after learning Genesis kicked him in the lake, that had them so terrified.

"I guess you'll have an easier time tomorrow, then," said Harry with a sigh.

"What for?" asked Sephiroth.

"You didn't see?" said Harry, sounding much calmer. Genesis and Angeal started looking a little less fearful for their lives. "We've got flying lessons with Madam Hooch tomorrow afternoon, with the Slytherins."

Sephiroth had a mental image of himself blanking out tomorrow on his broomstick, all because he was afraid of winding up in that blank void again. _The safest place_ , the girl had called it, and yet it had felt so horrible. If that was supposed to be safe, he would hate to find out just what was her idea of dangerous.

"Well, let's hurry to the Hospital Wing," said Genesis. "His head was bleeding a lot, so . . ."

Harry threw him a _look_ , which Sephiroth was starting to think was a little unfair, as they hadn't forced him to fly that broom. Genesis's voice trailed off nonetheless.

"I really don't need to," he said, pushing aside his hair, fingering the scab on his head. "I can just go wash up and it'll be fine."

"You got clobbered by an evil _tree_ , fell fifteen meters," said Harry slowly, "and you _don't_ want to go the Hospital Wing."

Sephiroth thought fifteen meters was a bit of an exaggeration, but the look on Harry's face allowed no arguments. The blood staining his silver hair, still wet and fresh, probably wasn't helping his case very much. He had already caught a few passing students throwing him concerned glances.

One way or another, Sephiroth found himself in the Hospital Wing for the first time. The Hospital Wing was composed of a couple large, jointed rooms and cots that were sectioned off with curtains. Several large windows let in warm sunlight and there was a distinct lack of floating dust, unlike everywhere else in the school. It wasn't an unpleasant place, rather than it was incredibly boring and Sephiroth _definitely_ didn't want to stay there longer than strictly necessary. He just hoped nothing happened that he had to be sent to the Hospital Wing too frequently.

Harry, Genesis, Angeal, and Ron were crowded around him as Madam Pomprey poked and prodded at his scalp. Her eyebrows were furrowed into a frown, before leaning away, mystification written clearly across her face. She pulled a pair of disposable gloves off her hands, tossing them into a trash can by the cot. Sephiroth was somewhat curious about the differences between Muggle doctors and medic-wizards and witches.

"You just received that injury recently?" she asked.

Sephiroth nodded.

"How recently, exactly?"

This was why he hadn't wanted to go to the Hospital Wing. He already knew he was differently, wasn't normal, he didn't need someone else confirming it for him, as well.

"About fifteen minutes ago," said Angeal for him.

Madam Pomfrey blinked, utterly perplexed.

"You are one incredibly fast healer," she said flatly. "That wound looks at least a couple days old, it probably won't even scar. Are you sure you were injured only fifteen minutes ago?"

Sephiroth nodded - followed by Angeal and Genesis.

"We were there," said Angeal.

"How did it happen?" asked Madam Pomfrey.

"It was some kind of devil tree," said Genesis sourly. "We got too close and, well . . ."

Madam Promfrey suddenly looked alarmed.

"You went near the Whomping Willow? Do you three have any sense of self-preservation?" she said, both worried and chastising. "The Whomping Willow will attack anything and anyone within range of its branches! What were you doing out so far in the grounds?"

Before they could even formulate a reply, she had already waved off the question.

"Never mind. I don't want to hear," she said irritably. "Why do I have the feeling I should save myself some work and set aside a cot for you right here and now?"

Sephiroth really, really hoped he wasn't sent to the Hospital Wing enough to warrant such actions.

"In any case," she said, breezing by them to set aside several of the potions she had pulled out as soon as she saw his bloody head, "you have one mighty healing ability, boy."

Sephiroth nodded in agreement, scrambling for an explanation, a how or why he was what he was - but found nothing. He didn't know anything about his strange abilities, or even the beginning how to explain then away.

"It's a latent magical ability, I'd say," Madam Pomfrey continued.

"A what?" asked Sephiroth, disbelieving. That he could put a name to what was different, a reason - a chance it might even be _normal_ \- was more than he had ever hoped for.

"A latent magical ability is something like a natural animagus, or a metamorphmagus," she said promptly. At their bewildered expressions, she went on. "I'm sure you've seen Professor McGonagall transform, yes?"

They nodded in response.

"She is an animagus," said Madam Pomfrey. "Not naturally born, as it can be learned. However, some abilities, most notably metamorphmagi, cannot be learned. Some lucky witches and wizards are born with the gift, and that is what I would guess your healing factor is."

Sephiroth wondered if his eyes and hair were also some kind of weird magic thing. Or his strength, speed, and stamina.

"Whatever it may be," she said, "it's one of its kind. I've never come across a wizard or witch with the ability to heal as quickly as you have, unaided with potion, that is."

So much for there being others like himself. Before Sephiroth could start feeling too bad about himself, he realized Genesis was hanging off of every one of Madam Pomfrey's words. His hands were clenched at his sides, leather gloves creaking slightly from the pressure, and Sephiroth remembered the many times those hands had turned painfully hot to the touch. Steaming, smoking - sometimes even bursting into flames, when Genesis was angry. None of the other students at Hogwarts did that. Sephiroth wasn't the only one with unusual "talents." Somewhere not nearly as deep down as he might wish, he was a little glad that he wasn't the only different one. It was selfish, but he couldn't help it.

Later, after they were finally released by Madam Pomfrey, who seemed to have physically restrained herself from asking for a blood sample, they all stopped out in the corridor. Sephiroth, who was entirely lost in thought, didn't stop in time and rammed face-first into Genesis's back.

" _Ow_ ," he mumbled, rubbing his nose. "What did you stop for?"

"It just - you're not complaining," said Harry, worried again.

"Complaining?" he said.

Genesis arched an eyebrow, as if it should perfectly obvious. Whatever was obvious, he was doing a great job at making Sephiroth feel rather foolish.

"You're not carrying on about your stomach or food, or even a hint of starvation," he said. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

Sephiroth opened his mouth to reply, but found no words came to mind and aborted the action. After the blood-chilling fear he experienced earlier, any appetite he might have worked up was killed. He still wasn't certain whether he thought it was real or not, the indecision by itself enough to gnaw at the edges of his mind. A lot of things had happened to him in his life, including but not limited to running from an escaped zoo lion (accidental magic), avoiding haircuts like the plague, and Hogwarts in general. However, he had never doubted his own sanity, which was frightening by itself.

He wasn't hungry in the least. In fact, he thought he might just be sick if he ate right now. He wasn't even sure he wanted to crawl into bed and sleep, risking the chance of dreaming about that blank void. The girl told him it was his safe place ( _a sanctuary_ ) but it was nothing but a nightmare to him.

" _Otouto_?" came Harry's voice, and Sephiroth knew he had to be very, very worried to use Japanese. His face was hovering close to Sephiroth's, forehead pinched into a frown.

"I'm fine," said Sephiroth. It wasn't technically a lie, because he wasn't quite sure if he was fine, either. "I'm just not very hungry."

A beat passed. Harry, Angeal, Genesis, and Ron stared at him.

"Okay, back to the Hospital Wing," said Harry, grabbing Sephiroth's arm and dragging him back the way they had come.

"What?" Sephiroth spluttered, too stunned to even pull away. "But I just - I'm fine!"

"Two words," said Angeal. "'Not hungry'."

Sephiroth blinked at him, nonplussed.

"Sephiroth," said Genesis with a sigh. "When have you ever _not_ been hungry? Can you honestly name a time when you haven't been starving for food? And right after feasts _do not_ count," he added when Sephiroth quickly opened his mouth.

When he _hadn't_ -

"But -" Sephiroth's voice cut off, because he couldn't think of a time he didn't want to stuff his face. "I, um . . ."

"That's what I thought," said Harry firmly. "Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey obviously missed something."

"No, wait - okay, okay, let's go to the Great Hall!" Sephiroth tugged at his arm. Harry's grip was surprisingly strong. "I'll eat! Just - don't make me go to the Hospital Wing _twice_ in one day, _aniki_."

Harry eyed him severely. It took several minutes of assurances and some begging, but eventually he relented to spare Sephiroth another trip to Madam Pomfrey. They made a bee-line for the Great Hall, as by then their stomachs were all rumbling in call for sustenance. As soon as Sephiroth was seated, he figured it must have just been nerves that kept his appetite at bay. He took one look at the dinner foods laid out almost immediately felt as good as new.

That fearful feeling still lingered as the day drew to an end, but - Harry and Genesis were piling his plate with food, and with Ron and Angeal talking his ears off, he couldn't stay that way for long.

* * *

 **A/N: I'M SORRY! I know it's late, but I procrastinated a couple days (big mistake) and then I had to see an optometrist (pun totally intended). Yesterday I was all "Yosh! 6,000 word sprint!" and almost died at two thousand. XD**

 **I rushed proofreading this time, so it's probably riddled with mistakes I missed. Sorry about that, too. Thank you for all the favs and follows, though! And I'll definitely have the next chapter out in a week, not a week and a day. :D**

 **I hope you all enjoyed, and if you noticed any errors feel free to point them out, so I can fix them!**

 **Until next time!**


	6. Chapter 6

06

For a whole five seconds during Madam Hooch's class, Sephiroth thought he might learn to enjoy flying. Then Neville Longbottom's broom went berserk, shot into the air with the attitude of an enraged bull, and attempted to buck the boy off at every chance it got.

Sephiroth decided right then and there, flying wasn't for him.

The class started out well enough, following every one of Madam Hooch's instructions to the tee. Like Genesis's and Angeal's lesson the day before, she had them call their brooms up to their hands before trying to fly. That part came easy, which was a little unfair for the others, seeing as he had already done it. His confidence was also somewhat bolstered by the fact he was a great deal's distance from the Whomping Willow, and Madam Hooch wouldn't let them fly high enough for any falls to cause injuries. Or, more importantly, suffer a concussion that resulted it what may or may not have been a nightmare.

Of course, the peace didn't last. Before they all had the chance to start hovering, Neville shot upward, zooming six meters into the air in the time it took Sephiroth to blink once. The broom completely ignored Madam Hooch's demands, rising even higher. Neville lasted hardly a minute, tilting sharply to the side when the broom gave a particularly nasty jerk - and falling -

Sephiroth jumped into action - because suddenly everyone was moving so _slowly_ \- and slid under Neville, the boy's larger body crashing into his side. He caught Neville's neck and shoulders, stopping a painful and dangerous landing. Neville was white-faced and trembling, too terrified to move even an inch.

That was just too bad, because Sephiroth's ribs were starting to feel bruised. He nudged Neville off, aided by a worried Madam Hooch. She lifted Neville into a sitting position, quickly checking him over for injuries. It was obvious enough that he was fine, barring what was probably a budding phobia of flying. Sephiroth could relate to that fear.

"You're alright, boy," said Madam Hooch, leaning away. She turned to Sephiroth, who found himself manhandled into an upright position as well.

Harry was looming behind her, frantic to rush up and check on him, but hesitant to risk crossing Madam Hooch's path.

"You were in the Hospital Wing yesterday, correct?" she said. "I heard about you from Poppy. I see what she meant. There's not a scratch on you."

Sephiroth gave a strained smile, wondering if it would be too rude to pull his arm away from her grasp. He took one look at her sharp golden eyes and chose to deal with her scrutiny. When Madam Pomfrey heard of his regenerative abilities, he had hoped she would keep it quiet, even among the other professors. Apparently she had told them all in detail, instead.

She gave his arm a shake, looking impressed.

"It's like you're made out of steel," she said.

Sephiroth wanted to crawl into a hole out of pure mortification. The other students were listening curiously. He couldn't see Malfoy's face from where he sat, but the other boy was probably absorbing in every bit of information he could glean from their conversation. Sephiroth noted sourly that Malfoy was quickly turning into a right demon.

That was when Neville started making a faint keening noise, his face taking on a gray pallor. His breathing was coming in quick and uneven bursts.

"Oh dear - he's going into shock," said Madam Hooch. She tutted, gently lifting him by his arms to his feet. "Come on, to the Hospital Wing with you."

Right before she left, she caught the class's attention, holding them transfixed under a glare that promised punishment if they didn't listen.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the Hospital Wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'." She pinned her stare on Genesis for second, who looked highly affronted. Then she led Neville, who still looked dazed, toward the castle.

Genesis scowled darkly once she was out of hearing range.

"I _saw_ that look she gave me," he mumbled. "She's blaming the broom incident yesterday on me, I just know it!"

Angeal threw him a _look_.

"It _was_ your idea, Genesis," he said.

Harry grabbed Sephiroth's shoulders and nearly shook him, but stopped out of precaution for any injuries Madam Hooch might have missed - although Sephiroth knew she hadn't missed anything. He wasn't injured, but Harry was hearing nothing of it and his forehead was once again pinched into a worried frown.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" said Harry.

Sephiroth nodded, a little exasperated, and embarrassed under the weight of the other students' watchful eyes. Surely there was something else more interesting to look at?

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" laughed Malfoy, his face twisted into cruel amusement. He started making exaggerating gasping sounds and the other Slytherins started laughing as well. "He was like a beached whale!"

Genesis's hands burst into flames and the students standing around him tripped over each other getting away.

"Say it again and I'll burn you," he snapped.

"What, you're friends with that fat little crybaby?" said Malfoy, although he was eyeing Genesis's hands warily. Then his attention was caught by something glinting brightly in the grass. He took the opening to escape Genesis's glare and swipe it up. "Look! It's that stupid thing Longbottom's Gran sent him."

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry, and Sephiroth turned to stare in bemusement. That was Harry's deadly calm tone, which was _far_ more terrifying than shouting.

If the way Genesis and Angeal backed away a little was anything go off, they agreed.

"Don't think I will," said Malfoy smartly. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find."

"Give it here!" shouted Harry.

Sephiroth edged away from the disaster in the making, because Harry was _definitely_ angry. Harry was typically somewhat even-tempered, keeping his poise despite living with some of the nastiest people to have ever existed. However, there were those times when someone pushed all the right buttons, and he snapped. Malfoy was fast on his way to pushing the last button and dooming his own fate.

He somehow ended up standing next to Genesis and Angeal, who watched the process with the same kind of morbid curiosity that one might find in a train wreck. They seemed to be discussing on the likelihood of Harry committing murder in front of several witnesses.

"Maybe we can make it look like natural causes?" said Genesis as Malfoy egged Harry on.

Harry threatened to knock Malfoy off his broom.

"Definitely natural causes," said Angeal.

"Being knocked off his broom from ten meters in the air is natural causes?" asked Sephiroth, cursing his curious streak.

Genesis reached a hand out.

"Strong wind today, wouldn't you say?" he said lightly.

Angeal's mouth twitched. Their eyes met - and then they dissolved into laughter. Sephiroth couldn't help but join them, startled but amused by the odd topic. Because really, there was no way they could pass off Malfoy falling from his broom, with Harry actively flying at him, as natural causes.

"You people have issues," said Hermione Granger, looking slightly disturbed.

Ron snickered, "It's wonderful, isn't it?"

"He's going to be _expelled_ ," she said, outraged.

Any words they had in response were lost forever as Malfoy threw the Remembrall, and Harry dove after it. He zipped in a downward arch for the ball, going faster and faster - the ground was getting closer and he was still speeding faster - and he _wasn't stopping_ -

Sephiroth started running again, frantically wondering since when his brother was suicidal - and skidded to a halt when Harry caught the Remembrall, stopping above the grass. He came to a graceful halt, before falling off the broom, still clutching the small ball. Malfoy was hovering in the sky above them, a gobsmacked expression fixed on his face. Unfortunately, Sephiroth was too busy being shocked as well to enjoy Malfoy's defeat.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Sephiroth bid sweet life goodbye as Professor McGonagall stormed onto the field.

"Never - in a my time at Hogwarts -"

It was so unfair. Harry had only been trying to get Neville's Remembrall back, and Malfoy had clearly just landed. She should be yelling at Malfoy, too. _How many points was she going to deduct this time?_

"How dare you - might have broken your neck -" Professor McGonagall couldn't seem to speak in coherent sentences, potent anger etched into her face.

"Don't kill hi -"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor -"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil," said Professor McGonagall.

"But Malfoy -"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Sephiroth almost darted over and latched onto Harry, begging Professor McGonagall not to punish him too severely, but was dissuaded from the ominous way her glasses flashed in the sun. Until that moment, he had thought Harry was the only one capable of doing it, but she was even scarier.

As soon as they left the grounds, Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis turned murderous looks on Malfoy had his friends. Genesis smirked dangerously, hot tongues of flame flickering to life around his fingers, while Angeal cracked his knuckles.

Malfoy went ashen.

"I'm having snake sashimi for dinner tonight," said Genesis.

Sephiroth would have gladly chipped in, had Madam Hooch not returned at that moment. They quickly molded back into the group of students, although the others were still giving Genesis a wide berth. After the class was over, Sephiroth found he had come away from it with only two important things: one being he hated flying, the other that Malfoy was an irredeemable _bloody git_.

"Now what?" said Sephiroth gloomily.

"Charms class," said Genesis. "Professor Flitwick."

Charms class was blissfully uneventful, if one wasn't counting the part where Professor Flitwick had Sephiroth stack all of his heavy tomes for him. Apparently a little bird had told him that Sephiroth was much stronger than the average child. He endured the stares of his fellow classmates the rest of the class, and started contemplating revenge against Madam Pompfrey.

"Here, hold this for me, will you?" said Genesis, tossing his bag full of school supplies at Sephiroth.

He let it fall to the ground, glaring at Genesis hotly.

"Touchy much?" Genesis sniggered, entirely unsympathetic.

Angeal swatted the back of his head.

"Carry your own stuff."

"Jeez," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head as he retrieved his bag. "Lighten up a bit."

"It's like they all expect me to smash open a wall!" said Sephiroth loudly, frustration creeping up.

A second year heard him and yelped, scurrying away quickly.

"I don't know about before," commented Genesis, "but they're definitely expecting it now."

"Look on the bright side," said Ron. "If a troll were to attack, they'd all know to run to you for help."

"Why would a troll attack?" said Sephiroth.

Ron shrugged.

"You never know."

"A troll isn't going to attack," said Genesis, rolling his eyes.

Angeal nodded in agreement.

"The school's got wards protecting it from monsters," he said. "And Dumbledore would never let something so dangerous in a school full of children."

Sephiroth thought they ought to stop coming up with reasons for a troll to _not_ attack. They would end up jinxing themselves.

"Well, whatever." Ron turned to Sephiroth. "Have you finished Snape's essay yet?"

They passed a suit of armor, which saluted sharply at them. Sephiroth was tempted to tell Ron he couldn't copy off his essay, because he knew exactly why Ron was asking. Instead he nodded yes, and pulled out the parchment for Ron to look over. It wasn't going to hurt anyone if he used Sephiroth's paper as a reference. (Somewhere, Hermione shivered behind her tall stack of books and knew someone was making a dreadful life mistake).

"I wonder how Harry's doing," said Ron, watching Sephiroth out of the corner of his eye. "I wouldn't be too worried - old McGonagall's strict, but she won't expel the Boy Who Lived."

"I'm not worried," said Sephiroth, his shoulders hunched over his bag, which he was clutching to his chest.

"If you got anymore worried, you'd turn blue," said Genesis flatly.

No matter what Sephiroth told himself, he knew they were absolutely correct. Worry had been gnawing at him since the flight lesson, and the longer Harry stayed absent the greater the feeling grew. If Harry was expelled, Sephiroth would without a doubt follow him, even if that meant they both had to live with the Dursleys again. Yet, he also felt torn because - Genesis and Angeal were walking side-by-side with him, his _friends_ , and he didn't want to leave. Now that the possibility of Harry being expelled was there, and with Malfoy's jeering comments, he couldn't take his mind off the worst-case scenario.

Someone flicked his forehead, and Sephiroth looked up in surprise. Genesis sighed, withdrawing his hand, shaking it slightly and muttering about hard heads.

"I can already tell you're one of those kinds who worry on and on needlessly, aren't you?" he said. "I don't exactly agree with Ron's way of saying it - but he's right. Professor McGonagal won't expel him."

He leaned forward so they were face-to-face, foreheads nearly touching, with a scowl.

"So stop making it snow!"

Sephiroth started, looking up to see there was indeed a small flurry of snowflakes following him. He flushed in embarrassment. Taking his usual perch on Sephiroth's shoulder, Shinra looked particularly disgruntled by the amount of snow collected on his head.

"Sorry," said Sephiroth, to both Genesis and the cat. He expected more forgiveness from Genesis, unfortunately. Shinra held grudges.

Two hours later, Sephiroth finally found Harry, who looked battered and bruised, making his way from the grounds as if he had never left. There were grass stains on his knees and he looked as though he had been dropped off his broom multiple times. For a second, Sephiroth thought that he had endured some kind of draconian punishment, and that someone was about to pay for it. Except when Harry noticed them, he broke into a wide smile, contrary to the expression he should have worn if he was brutally tortured for hours on end (Sephiroth allowed the notion his imagination might have gotten carried away there).

He wouldn't tell them until they were in the Great Hall, sitting at the Gryffindor table and loading their plates with food. Apparently, the noise of the other students speaking was a good cover.

"You _what_?" said Genesis incredulously when Harry finally broke the news.

"Seeker?" Ron gaped, his food forgotten and hanging halfway to his mouth. "But you must be the youngest in -"

"- About a century," Harry finished, nodding. "Wood wanted to wait until next week to start training, but I wanted to learn a little sooner."

Sephiroth was suffering a minor coronary.

"You're . . . flying . . . _projectiles_ . . ."

"I think you broke him," said Angeal, bemused.

Harry patted Sephiroth's back comfortingly, even though he was the one who would be risking life and limb in the air, with Bludgers whipping by his body.

"But - why?" Sephiroth was whining and he knew it - but he just couldn't stop himself. Harry must have gone utterly insane in the short time Professor McGonagall had him to herself.

Genesis rolled his eyes, stabbing his chicken with a fork, as if to make extra sure it was dead.

"That's because, unlike you, he's not a dead fish in the air," he said bluntly.

"But - aren't there any magic sports that don't involve flying?" asked Sephiroth hopefully.

Ron stared at him blankly.

"What kind of boring sport would that be?" he asked.

"Football," said Genesis. "Muggle sport. Doesn't have flying."

" _Muggle_ sport," he said. "Not magical. So, boring."

"If by boring you mean _sane_ ," Sephiroth mumbled.

Two redheaded shadows appeared behind them. Fred and George had entered the Great Hall and now were hovering closely around Harry, an eager light in their eyes.

"Well done," said George (at least Sephiroth thought it was George). "Wood told us. We're on the team too - Beaters."

Sephiroth might have been a little more excited, had his first flight not ended in a concussion and a weird dream of a suffocating void and girl who, now that he thought back on it, never really answered any of his questions. Not that he thought it was real, of course.

"Lighten up," said Genesis, jostling his shoulder. "You've been wound up like a violin string since yesterday. Is your head still hurting or something?"

"I'm fi -"

"Having a last meal, Potter?"

Never had Malfoy's voice been so unwelcome then it was now. Sephiroth cast a sideways glare at him, and he had the dubious pleasure of watching Malfoy and his friends, Crabbe and Goyle, freeze up in surprise. He had never particularly spoken to them since that night at the train station, most of Malfoy's comments either being ignored and countered by Harry well enough that Sephiroth didn't feel to need to step in. This time, though, he really just wasn't in the mood.

It was probably the rumors floating around that Sephiroth could uproot houses, but Malfoy lost most of his steam after that. Unfortunately, Sephiroth didn't terrify him nearly enough, as he challenged Harry to a wizard duel shortly after. Malfoy kept a weathered eye on him the entire time, but Sephiroth really would have preferred him to run away and bother someone else.

"I'm his second," said Ron boldly, "who's yours?"

"Crabbe," said Malfoy after a short period of consideration. "Is midnight alright? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

Sephiroth calculated the chances of Harry, Ron, and himself (there was absolutely no way he was letting Harry enter a duel on his own; that he had Ron didn't count) getting to the trophy room without getting caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris. He didn't like the odds at all.

"What is a wizard's duel?" asked Harry to Ron once Malfoy and his friends had left. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die."

Sephiroth latched onto Harry side, hugging him tightly.

"You're not going."

"But -" Ron was interrupted by Sephiroth.

"Not - going."

Angeal sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"People don't die in duels anymore," he explained. "Back in medieval times, yeah, but not now. And neither of you have learned any proper offensive spells. Neither of you will do much more than shoot sparks."

"Oh, I know some!" said Genesis excitedly. "I can teach you! Malfoy will never see this coming."

"No _way_ -" Sephiroth started, but was cut off by the sound of a throat clearing.

"Excuse me?"

The five of them looked up to see Hermione Granger. She didn't look very pleased, and Sephiroth had a feeling she had heard their conversation. He could relate to her sentiments.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying -"

"Bet you could," Ron grumbled under his breath.

"- and you mustn't go -"

It seemed someone actually agreed with Sephiroth. Harry couldn't go out after dark, fighting against Malfoy, and perhaps get injured (no matter what Angeal said). It was dangerous to his health -

"- think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

So apparently she was less worried over Harry's well-being and more concerned over the points. Sephiroth tightened his grip around Harry, but stopped when he started wheezing and mumbled a quick apology.

Ron and Harry ended up completely ignoring Hermione's warning, misplaced as her priorities were, and were still plotting how they would fight Malfoy when they turned in for the night. Long since realizing nothing he said was going to convince Harry otherwise, Sephiroth was throwing out advice with Genesis and Ron, although his usually watered down to "Move out of the way," and "A tactical retreat is never cowardly."

That night, as the time neared eleven o'clock, Sephiroth lay awake with Harry and Ron. He knew Genesis and Angeal were also awake, but they had opted not to go, as the greater numbers would make them more likely to be caught. He turned on his side, playing with the ends of his long silver hair. He was reluctant to break the silence, but at the same time, it was stifling.

"Is it really that important?"

He heard Harry shift in his bed, probably facing him.

"Yeah," he said. "It's just . . . I've been waiting for this for a while now, I think. And imagining his face I didn't turn up . . . you don't understand."

"I don't," Sephiroth agreed softly.

Harry's sighed breezed.

"You should stop worrying so much," he said. "I'm your big brother, I'm supposed to be worrying about you, you know."

Sephiroth scoffed lightly, but he couldn't help a small smile.

"As if you could take me in a fight," he said.

"That doesn't matter," said Harry determinedly. "Whether you're stronger or not, I'll protect you."

"This is all really touching," said Genesis from the darkness, "but I'm trying to sleep. So shut up."

"Way to ruin the moment," Ron grumbled.

"It's _late!_ "

Sephiroth laughed, and then fell silent with the others when Seamus stirred from their racket. Another half hour passed and he heard Ron and Harry swiftly and stealthily make their way down to the common room. He followed, pulling on his school robes, which were dark enough to keep him mostly hidden and warm, perfect for a late-night excursion. The only issue he faced was the bright silver color of his hair, which stood out even in the middle of the night.

When he caught up to Ron and Harry, the former eyed him, a little unnerved.

"What?" he asked.

Ron motioned to his own eyes, as if pointing out there was something on Sephiroth's face.

"Your eyes, um . . ."

" _What_?" said Sephiroth impatiently.

"They're glowing."

"They always do that," said Harry, waving away Ron's concern. "I used to think my eyes glowed in the dark, too, when I was younger."

"Well . . . alright, then," said Ron hesitantly. "Let's go."

They didn't even make it to the portrait, before a lamp flickered on and they were caught. Hermione stood waiting for them, looking for all the world like she was emulating a disappointed professor.

"That was fast," Sephiroth commented.

Harry threw him a look that clearly translated to, _Not helping_.

"I almost told your brother," said Hermione sharply. "Percy - he's a Prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

"It wouldn't work, I tried," said Sephiroth.

Harry _and_ Ron glared at him this time.

"Let's just go," said Harry, heading out the portrait of the Fat Lady, ignoring the fact Hermione was following him. If he was going for quiet, then he wouldn't get very far with Hermione chattering it the background.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor? Do you only care about yourselves? I don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

Harry pretended she didn't exist with the persistence of an expert.

At her look of outrage, Sephiroth quick intervened with a sheepish smile.

"Harry's really good at ignoring people," he said. He left out the part where the reason Harry was so good at ignoring people was mostly his fault. It came from when Sephiroth was five years old, and used to vie for Harry's attention at every second of the day. Even Sephiroth had to admit he must have been incredibly annoying at that age.

Hermione didn't seem to take the advice, however, as she kept berating Harry and Ron heatedly.

"Alright, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so -"

Sephiroth turned to see why she had cut herself off so abruptly, and quickly worked on committing to memory her stunned expression as she stared at the empty portrait of the Fat Lady. So maybe her constant talking had annoyed him a little.

"Now what am I going to do?!"

"That's your problem," said Ron, utterly lacking sympathy. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

Sephiroth felt a little sorry for her, knowing Hermione's unbending attitude toward rule-breakers, or even rule-benders. Or, anyone who did anything even slightly out of line, who she would commence to turn in, pronto. Now that he thought about it, perhaps he didn't feel so sorry for her.

They turned the corner in the hall, only to realize Hermione was following them. An argument ensued between her and Ron, and Sephiroth was horrified to find he was reminded of Genesis and Angeal. The frequency of their arguments mirrored each other, at the very least. He briefly entertained the thought that Hermione might have some kind of skill she kept to herself, like Angeal's lock-picking, but abandoned it almost immediately.

The school was much different after dark. Halls that were spacious and bright during the day, were swathed in shadows. Each corner they turned felt like a dangerous risk, the fifty-fifty chance of running into Filch or Mrs. Norris weighing heavily on their shoulders. However, once they gained some distance from the Gryffindor Tower, Sephiroth relaxed a little. Filch mostly patrolled around the Gryffindors, because they were the most likely to sneak out over the rest of the Houses. That, and despite being told Filch hated all Hogwarts students equally, Sephiroth suspected he held a grudge against the Gryffindors.

As the clock struck midnight, they arrived at the trophy room, just in the nick of time. Thankfully, they seemed to have been spared embarrassment at barely making it, as Malfoy and Crabbe were absent. Sephiroth's attention was snatched from the upcoming duel by the sheer amount of glittering and shining objects in the room. He had known it was called the trophy room, but he wasn't told it was so _shiny_.

He was reaching for a the golden plaque of a classic cup-shaped trophy, curious if the gold was real or just colored that way, when he heard a soft scuffle from the next room. It was followed by a hushed voice, and the sweeping of long fur on the ground.

"Someone's coming," he whispered. "Sounds like Filch and Mrs. Norris."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked back at him, wide-eyed.

"I didn't hear anything," said Ron.

"Me either," said Hermione.

"Which way?" asked Harry frantically.

Sephiroth was already headed for the door.

"Let's go!" he hissed. "Malfoy must have tipped him off or something."

There was no way Filch would randomly patrol this way, unless someone dropped a hint there would be a couple errant students meeting up in the trophy room.

"Seriously?" Hermione gasped as they darted out of the room. "You can hear something?"

"He's got really good hearing," snapped Harry.

They rounded a bend, and that was around when Sephiroth remembered they should be paying attention to where they were heading.

"They're in here somewhere, probably hiding," came Filch's voice from the trophy room, and Sephiroth physically dragged Harry and Ron faster down the hall.

"Hey - hey!" panted Ron, alarmed. "Not so fast!"

"You left Hermione," said Harry.

 _Oops_. He glanced back, slowing to a halt, and waited until she barreled around the corner. She was ashen, looking terrified and furious at the same time.

"I think he saw me," she said.

" _Run!_ " Harry snarled, and they abandoned all pretenses of stealth.

Sephiroth made a mental note - next time he was sneaking out after curfew with Hermione, he shouldn't forget bodily drag her along, too. If he had bothered to make sure she was right behind him, Filch wouldn't have seen her. Then again, he only had two hands, and it would be awkward for him to try and grab Hermione and Ron with the same hand. They would try to kill each other.

By the time they stopped running, they were a quarter-ways around the other side of the school, standing outside their Charms classroom. Harry and Ron looked comfortable with the distance they had run, but Sephiroth felt they could have run a little longer, just to be safe. Honestly, he wouldn't feel comfortable until they were back in the common room. He was going to throttle Malfoy mercilessly in the morning for making him run so much at _midnight_ , when he should be sleeping - no matter how much the little snitch begged.

Or maybe he would do it next week. Revenge was a dish served best cold.

"You feeling alright?" asked Ron. "You, er, look . . ."

Sephiroth smiled - Ron flinched.

"I'm fine!"

Harry let out an exhausted laugh, despite their predicament.

"We'll all take turns beating him up, yeah?" he said.

"That sounds good," Sephiroth replied.

"So you already suspected Malfoy would trick you," said Hermione angrily, "and you _still_ went along with it?"

"We didn't think he'd rat us out from the beginning, if that's what you're saying," snapped Ron. "Besides, we wouldn't have had to run like that if you'd been a little quicker."

Sephiroth didn't think that was very fair, considering he was the one pulling Ron through the hallways at breakneck speeds. It was hardly Hermione's fault she couldn't keep up.

"Let's just go," sighed Harry, echoing himself from earlier.

They turned another corner, heading for the Gryffindor common room, and ran straight into Peeves. Well, they didn't actually _run into_ him, because he was a ghost and that would have been very unpleasant. Harry drew back quickly, bumping into Ron and making Hermione scowl, before she saw what caused them to stop. She blanched in synchronicity with them.

Peeves was the real reason it was so dangerous to wander around after dark. Being a poltergeist, he took ultimate joy out of making their lives as miserable as possible. If they wanted to get away from him without the entire school being alerted of exactly what they were doing, they would have to be careful. Sephiroth's mind reeled, scrambling for something, _anything,_ to bribe Peeves with to keep him from doing something drastic. Sephiroth just had to stay calm - even if the unnaturally humored glint in the ghost's eyes made him squirm uncomfortably - and hope Ron and Hermione didn't do anything foolish.

"Get out of the way," said Ron irritably, slashing his hand through Peeves's midsection.

Sephiroth had hoped they wouldn't do anything just like that. He was already pushing them down the corridor, prodding his fingers a little harder than necessary into Ron's back, as Peeves roared, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

"You just _had_ to pick a fight with a poltergeist!" Sephiroth yelled.

If the look on Hermione's face was anything to go by, she was sharing his frustration.

"In there!" said Harry, changing directions and pulling Sephiroth around to a door.

It just so happened that door was locked. They banged on the door hopelessly, panic making them sloppy and ignoring Hermione's protests, because nothing could be worse than the situation they were in. Sephiroth was already gearing up to push them through another sprint, if they ran fast and far enough, they could probably avoid being caught. Or maybe, he thought wildly, he could just kick straight through the door - but that would definitely blow their cover -

Then Hermione's patience snapped and she shoved Ron and Harry out of the way, pulling her wand free of her pockets and said, " _Alohomora!_ "

 _Oh, yeah, magic_ , Sephiroth thought faintly, as she tugged him, along with Harry and Ron, inside the door. He slammed it shut behind them, forcing his breathing even because in dark, quiet places like this even his heartbeat felt deafening.

"Which did they go, Peeves?" he heard Filch asking, wheezing slightly from his chase across the school. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please'."

Sephiroth, even though he was still annoyed with the errant ghost, couldn't help a smirk. If Filch hated all students equally, then Peeves loved annoying all humans equally - students and adults combined.

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," chimed Peeves joyfully.

"Alright," hissed Filch angrily. " _Please_."

"NOTHING!" Peeves burst out, laughing uproariously. "Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaa!"

Peeves's laughter trailed off as he sailed away, likely slipping straight through a wall. A couple seconds later, Sephiroth's eyes widened as Filch cursed spectacularly. He had _never_ thought such benign words could be used so viciously.

"Whoa."

Harry tripped over himself trying to cover Sephiroth's ears.

"Er - guys?"

"Not now," said Harry. "Seph, stop listening!"

"But - a _basket?_ "

"Sephiroth!"

"I'll never look at a turkey the same way again."

" _Guys!_ " came Ron's faint whimper.

" _What?!_ " Sephiroth and Harry snapped in unison. They turned to glare at Ron, Harry with his hands still clamped over Sephiroth's ears - and instead found themselves staring into three pairs of eyes.

"Oh," whispered Sephiroth. "That's a big dog."

He couldn't quite comprehend it. The room they had run into wasn't actually a room. It was the forbidden third corridor, and Sephiroth almost laughed at the coincidence of them choosing _that_ door of all doors. He didn't however, because he was somewhat preoccupied by three mouthfuls of sharp teeth half the size of his own body.

That was it. His brain was officially broken. There was a three-headed dog in the forbidden corridor. _A three-headed dog_ the size of the Whomping Willow, only armed with teeth and claws, and four perfectly functioning legs to run on. Drool was spattered on the ground in puddles, the powerful stench of _animal in need of a bath_ burning his nose. Sephiroth wondered how he hadn't noticed the smell alone earlier, and blamed Filch's dirty mouth.

"Door, door, door," Ron chanted, fumbling with doorknob. They literally tumbled out of the corridor - Sephiroth could _taste_ fear in the air - and Ron kicked the door shut.

They ran, no longer afraid of being caught by Filch. Sephiroth was fairly sure that, after facing a three-headed dog, he wouldn't be afraid of anything ever again. He was so stunned, he didn't even notice Ron, Hermione, and Harry were keeping pace with him. They were too terrified to even notice their bodies' limits.

"Pig snout, pig snout!" said Sephiroth as soon as they were in hearing distance of the Fat Lady, who was back in her portrait.

They ignored her inquiring voice, nearly collapsing as soon as they were back in the common room. Sephiroth dropped on the arm of one of the sofas, hanging over it in a boneless sort of way.

"Never again," he moaned. "Harry, if you ever try to sneak out again, I'll tie you up."

"I'll tie _me_ up," said Harry weakly.

"Insane," said Ron. "Completely, utterly - what do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?"

Sephiroth almost said, _"_ _Population control?"_ and realized he might be spending too much time with Genesis.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" said Hermione, drawing herself up with all the angry dignity she possessed before they first left the Gryffindor common room. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

 _And she's worried about what it was standing on_ , thought Sephiroth in a deadpan.

"The floor?" said Harry sarcastically. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"Or didn't you notice?" said Ron, annoyed. "There were _three_ of them!"

Sephiroth was going to sleep and pretend tonight never happened. He didn't want to remember that there was a monster with three heads in the school.

"It was standing on a trapdoor," said Hermione. "It's obviously guarding something."

She pulled her robe tighter around her slight frame, marching toward the girl's dormitories. Before she disappeared up the stairs, she turned once to say, "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

"You'd think we dragged her along," said Ron, aghast.

"She thinks being expelled is worse than dying?" said Sephiroth, lifting his head from where his face was pressed up against the sofa.

He glanced at Harry and - there was a contemplative expression on Harry's face that made his insides sink to the floor.

" _Aniki_ ," he said, so serious they both looked up. "I don't care what you think is under that door, or what it might have to do with that package Hagrid took from Gringotts. _We are never doing that again_."

* * *

 **A/N: ON TIME! :D**

 **I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for all the reviews, favs and follows, and special thanks to Kairitrion Cerule and FireEmblemLover39! Without them, I'd probably be binge-watching Yuri! on Ice..again.. instead of working on updates. :D**

 **Coming next time is Halloween and..not much plot divergence.. XD See ya next week!**


	7. Chapter 7

07

The next morning was a nightmare.

"I said _never again!_ "

Harry looked Sephiroth, innocence never less befitting on him.

Any vengeful joy Sephiroth had felt at witnessing Malfoy's gobsmacked expression when they walked into the Great Hall that morning was drained when Harry and Ron started eagerly talking about their next adventure. Between planning late-night excursions, Harry was telling Ron everything about the package Hagrid took from Gringotts, and they spent breakfast theorizing over what might be inside of it.

Sephiroth had been sure that, after nearly becoming a three-headed monster's next meal, Harry and Ron would decide the adventurous life wasn't for them. Apparently they felt differently than him, though. As if that wasn't bad enough, Harry was quizzing him on the package to see if he could remember any tiny, important details that Harry had missed. He was seriously considering making good on his promise to tie Harry up if he tried anything.

Even though Sephiroth and Hermione agreed on several things that involved Harry's newly developed taste in excitement, she had added him with Harry and Ron to her list of shunned people. He also suspected her dislike of him might have something to do with his habit of letting Ron look over his homework.

" _Three heads?!_ "

And then there was Genesis. When he heard about the three-headed dog in the third floor, his knee-jerk reaction was to demand they go there immediately. He wanted to see the monster with his own eyes. Harry, Ron, and Sephiroth all agreed this was a bad idea, and with Angeal's help, they managed to dissuade him – for the time being. He was sending out sparks after they finished their tale, hands burning holes through his gloves. (He was going to need yet another pair, Sephiroth noted).

"I knew I was going regret not going," said Genesis mournfully, staring into his soup. He looked, for the world, like a boy denied his Christmas presents. "A giant dog with _three heads . . ._ "

"It was terrifying," Ron interjected.

"But there was this trapdoor - Ron and I think it has something to do with the package Hagrid took from Gringotts -"

Harry proceeded to fill in Genesis about everything he and Ron had speculated, while Sephiroth turned to his food. He was already on his third helping and still going strong. No one really stared anymore, because like everything else that was odd in the magic world, they had gotten used to it. The rumors about him being superhuman were still active as ever and now there was a theory going around that he needed the extra food to support his body. He swirled his pumpkin juice around in the cup, shrugging the thought off - it was probably correct.

Only vaguely aware of the post arriving, Sephiroth reached for the plate of bacon - only to have it knocked out of reach, onto the ground, by a large package. He stared blankly, hand still out-stretched for his bacon, at the package. It was addressed to Harry, and Sephiroth wondered if his brother wouldn't mind too terribly if he threw it across the hall. His bacon was collecting dust on the floor now.

Harry's form was all but vibrating with poorly contained joy as he read the note that came with the package and Sephiroth momentarily forgot about his bacon angst. He leaned over Harry's shoulder, eyes skimming the note briefly, and realized his food was knocked over by a broom. Not a cleaning broom, but a broom meant for _flying_. That had to be a bad omen.

Ron was eyeing the package, green with jealousy but just as excited as Harry.

"Oh, it's just bacon," said Genesis impatiently. He seemed to have picked up on what was irritating Sephiroth. "Get over it."

"But -"

"There's a dozen other plates of bacon," snapped Genesis. "Stop moping."

At that moment, several other students claimed free platters of bacon. It was eat or starve with Sephiroth around. Genesis cast an unbelieving stare at the students in question.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

Angeal chuckled lightly.

"Bacon's a serious thing, Gen."

Harry grabbed Sephiroth's arm, taking the package in his other hand, and within seconds they were outside the Great Hall. Ron kept stride eagerly, followed by Genesis and Angeal. All of them were itching to open the broomstick and feast their eyes on a Nimbus Two Thousand. From what Ron had said (and what Sephiroth had heard from the other students in passing conversations about Quidditch), it was understandable. The Nimbus Two Thousand was a top-notch broom, but Sephiroth didn't find the same joy out of flying as Harry and the others.

Before they could make it to an empty classroom, they were accosted by Malfoy and his friends in the entrance hall. Crabbe and Goyle stood blocking them in either direction, although he thought Malfoy was getting a little arrogant if he thought they could stop Harry, Ron, Genesis, Angeal, _and_ himself.

Malfoy yanked the package from Harry's hands, quickly feeling the frame, and called them out on having a broomstick. He looked a strange mix of triumphant and envious.

"You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed a broom."

"It's not any old broomstick," said Ron boastfully. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?"

Sephiroth sensed a conversation of Quidditch facts and figures was about to begin. He had never been more glad to be wrong, when they were interrupted by Professor Flitwick, who seemed to materialize without them noticing in the same way all the professors could at Hogwarts.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he said in high-toned voice.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy, gray eyes flicking to them, smirking faintly.

Sephiroth knew the let-down Malfoy was about to experience would make up for at least half of the things that happened last night.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick blithely. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," Harry replied, voice and face strained to keep from laughing.

Sephiroth thought, despite the morning's rocky start, his day couldn't get any better.

"And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," said Harry, looking for the world like he was truly grateful to Malfoy, who was turning several different shades of red.

As it turned out, Sephiroth's day _could_ get better.

"You're a pal," said Genesis gloatingly, patting Malfoy's shoulder as they slipped by. He grinned fiendishly, belaying his words.

Anything more, and Sephiroth was afraid Malfoy would snap and go on a homicidal rage. It definitely made up for the scare they received the night before and served him right for tricking them. They left as Professor Flitwick inquired Malfoy if he was feeling quite alright, snickering as quietly as they could manage. Ron's eyes were shining with pure glee.

"That takes _backfire_ to whole new level," said Genesis cheerily.

Angeal nodded, smiling faintly.

"I don't think he'll try anything like that for a while," he said.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up," Sephiroth commented. He had seen Malfoy's expression, and it was undulated fury. It he didn't try to get revenge, Sephiroth would be surprised.

"Let him come," said Genesis confidently, smacking his fist into his open palm. "I've wanted to go head to head with him since the start of the year."

"Are you going to unwrap it?" asked Ron, eyes fixed on the packaged broom.

Harry nodded, reaching for one of the strands of twine tying it up, but Sephiroth stopped him as he heard footsteps. Within seconds, Hermione stormed up the stairs, throwing a poisonous glare at the package, and he knew she was about to break her promise to never speak to them again. Ron looked as though he would rather she didn't.

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" she said, arms crossed.

"Or maybe they just recognized his talent as a natural flier?" said Genesis, annoyed.

She huffed. "Just because you didn't go with them, doesn't keep you from being in the wrong, too. You should have helped me stop them."

Sephiroth had almost forgotten that Hermione disliked Genesis in particular. Since the beginning of term, he had managed to get higher marks than her in every class, both theoretically and practically. On top of that, Genesis was infamously unmotivated with his studies, relying on his steel-trap memory and latent magical talent. He was the type of student who studied about five minutes and still kept his spot at the top of the classes. For someone like Hermione, who worked almost every minute of the day to get high marks, he was the worst kind of rival.

By the time Hermione left, she was nearly physically radiating anger. Genesis looked like the cat who caught the canary, smirking victoriously, while Angeal was disapproving. Nothing new had happened, then.

They reached the common room, but had to leave the broomstick wrapped up in the dormitory to make a mad dash for their first class of the day. Sephiroth had to elbow Harry several times throughout the rest of the day, when he started to gaze off into space. With the knowledge of his broom lying in the dormitory and the upcoming Quidditch practices, Sephiroth knew he was having a hard time focusing. Hard time - as in, impossible. Sephiroth took extra notes that day, because he knew Harry only wrote about three sentences.

" _Food . . ._ " Sephiroth eagerly grabbed a plate for dinner - and was yanked up from his seat by Harry, who had already finished a meager meal. "Wait, but -"

"Broom!" said Harry.

Ron was grinning.

"Let's go!"

"But, dinner!" Sephiroth protested as he was dragged bodily from the Great Hall. "They don't usually serve -"

"Here," sighed Genesis, who had ran to catch up with them. He handed Sephiroth a platter full of an assortment of food. When he saw Sephiroth's rapturous expression, he added hastily, "I just didn't want to hear you whining like a kid."

"Sure you didn't," muttered Angeal out of the corner of his mouth as Sephiroth thanked Genesis profusely.

"Shut up."

"Mother hen," Angeal said.

"That's rich, coming from you!" snarled Genesis.

They bickered back and forth the entire way to the boy's dormitory, and didn't stop until Harry started unwrapping the broomstick. Sephiroth was simply glad he no longer felt that uncomfortable gnawing hunger. The others fell silent out of awe as the Nimbus Two Thousand was revealed, laid out on Harry's bed and gleaming in the soft light of the dormitory.

After a round of _Ohs_ and _Ahs_ over the top-notch broomstick, Sephiroth followed Harry to his Quidditch practice. There was no way he was about to let Harry go off on his own to fly, when he could fall off his broom, or get hit by a rogue Bludger. According to Fred and George (who he really needed to stop listening to), those kinds of injuries happened frequently. He was also worried about the team captain, who would be teaching Harry. If he was unfair or cruel, he would have to answer to Sephiroth.

As if sensing what Sephiroth was thinking of, Harry stopped walking in the middle of a corridor. He reached over and flicker Sephiroth's forehead, making him blink in surprise - and flush a little, because _really_ , did Harry have to treat him like a kid?

"Stop," Harry said and smiled, wordlessly, effortlessly, assuaging Sephiroth's fears. Something that might have been regret, which didn't belong on Harry's face _at all_ , flashed. "Sometimes I think you forget _I'm_ supposed to be the big brother."

" _Aniki_ is _aniki_ ," said Sephiroth, not quite sure of what Harry was trying to say.

"And I bet you'd jump right under me if I fell, like you did with Neville, wouldn't you?"

Of course he would, that should have been obvious. Sephiroth didn't reply, he didn't need to, and he couldn't understand why Harry looked so frustrated. This had happened a lot since they came to Hogwarts and on some level, he had sensed it coming. Harry had always tried so hard to protect him from everything: the Dursleys, school bullies, the unnerved stares and whispers of strangers, but it was different in Hogwarts.

"Sephiroth," said Harry firmly, drawing his unwavering attention. "If I fall, I don't want you jumping out to save me. I'll save myself. If I can't even take care of myself, what kind of big brother would I be?"

"But -"

"Just promise?" he urged.

Sephiroth didn't want to promise, because he wasn't keen on breaking promises and he disliked lying, both of which he would do if he promised that to Harry. However, Harry's green eyes were piercing behind his glasses, unrelenting, and Sephiroth nodded slightly.

"Thanks," said Harry, beaming at him.

He was almost positive they both knew he would break that promise is something really did happen.

Those thoughts weighed on his mind heavily during Harry's practice session with the team Captain, Oliver Wood, who was clearly a Quidditch fanatic even among the passionate. Sephiroth's entire body jerked reflexively when Wood released the Bludger, but he stopped himself as Harry used to bat to knock it away. He was going to have to sit through entire games like this, only with _two_ Bludgers and the opposing team aiming for Harry's head. On top of that, he would be circling hundreds of feet in the air.

He wondered if it wasn't already too late for him to convince Harry to refrain from participating in Quidditch. There had to be other magical sports that didn't involve flying, no matter what Ron said. However, as he watched Harry fly back and forth, snatching golf balls out of the air with unerring precision, he couldn't deny Harry was talented. His hand-eye coordination was superb and Wood knew it - he was practically bouncing with excitement where he stood. Harry was going to become the Gryffindor Quidditch team's winning card, it seemed.

 _Maybe it won't be so bad_ , he thought hesitantly. Harry arched high into the air, and he tensed. _Then again, maybe it will_.

Wood talked animatedly all the way back up to the castle, eyes bright with anticipation for the first Quidditch game of the season.

"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," he said. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

"Dragons?" asked Sephiroth quickly.

Harry shot him an amused sideways look.

"Dragons fly," he commented in a benign way that didn't fool Sephiroth for a second.

"Yeah, so?" Sephiroth said defensively. "It's completely different from brooms."

"Yeah, instead they have teeth and claws," Harry replied dryly.

"And they're very territorial," said Wood, earning curious looks. He shrugged. "Charlie used to talk about them constantly. I think he'd repeat the facts over and over again just to make sure we actually remembered."

"And they _fly,_ " Harry reminded him helpfully.

"Flying a dragon is not the same as flying a broom," said Sephiroth stubbornly.

"The broom won't try to kill you."

"I think that is entirely debatable."

Wood chuckled faintly, shaking his head.

"Listening to you two makes me wish I had siblings," he said when they looked at him questioningly again. "Only child, you know?"

Sephiroth was more than a little surprised to hear that, considering he had been on the team with Charlie, Fred, and George, who were all part of the same enormous family. He surely had to have heard the sibling woes from them at least once or twice. Sephiroth lost count of the amount of times Ron complained about his multitude of brothers and his little sister (who was, evidently, very nosy).

They parted once they reached the castle, Wood shouting to Harry to remember practice was three times a week, as if he was likely to forget. Wood was nothing if not a thorough captain, though, and Sephiroth figured he could have been worse. He was nothing like the yelling, strict demon-captain Sephiroth had envisioned before the practice session.

"Who knows," said Harry cheerfully as they headed for the Gryffindor common room, "maybe if you try out flying again, you'll like it!"

"No thanks."

* * *

Halloween was always a very paranoid time for Sephiroth and Harry.

When the day rolled around, Sephiroth spent a good deal of the morning waiting for something disastrous to occur, such as an escaped lion (he was still traumatized), or Aunt Marge appearing through one of the doors. One never knew with his luck on Halloween, and last time he encountered Aunt Marge was on Halloween day. He'd accidentally dropped a plate on her dog's head and she had given him the beating of his life with her walking cane.

The year before that, Sephiroth had absentmindedly put the ice cream in the refrigerator instead of the freezer, and all they had for dessert was vanilla-flavored liquid. Dudley had pitched the fit of the century. The year before _that_ , he mistook the weed-killer for fertilizer and Aunt Petunia's beloved garden (and Sephiroth) suffered for it. Before _that -_ well, the point was that Halloween never went well for them.

"Is something wrong?" asked Angeal, when Sephiroth twitched for the tenth time during breakfast.

"No, nothing," said Sephiroth.

Harry nudged his side.

"Anything seem out of the ordinary?" he asked warily.

Sephiroth shook his head.

"Nothing so far, at least."

Genesis was looking at them in bewilderment, taking a bite of an empty spoon because he hadn't noticed the food fall off. Sephiroth blamed it on Halloween.

The food was enough to make Sephiroth forget his paranoia for a short while, though. Pumpkin soup and pastries, an assortment of new dishes he had never seen served before, appeared on the table that morning. Fred and George jokingly stole platters from other tables and gave them to Sephiroth, who laughed with them and accepted it. He was sure they were trying to see how much he could eat before he starting feeling overstuffed. (So far, Harry hadn't given him the chance to do so).

He forgot again about their terrible Halloween luck when Professor Flitwick started instructing them on how to levitate objects in the air. They had mostly been learning theory and preformed very little real magic in the classes up until then, Professor McGonagall being one of the only exceptions to that rule, so it was exciting to finally get into the more advanced magic. Although, Sephiroth wasn't sure if Professor Quirrel was going to teach them anything more intense, because he seemed just as terrified of everything as ever during breakfast.

They were paired off by Professor Flitwick and Sephiroth found himself with Angeal. Harry and Seamus were partners, and Ron was furious to be partnered with Hermione, who vehemently returned the sentiments. Poor Neville looked absolutely terrified to be paired with Genesis. He was already looking annoyed at Neville's incompetence.

"You want to try first?" asked Angeal.

Sephiroth shrugged and lifted his wand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Genesis was being very particular with the wand movement and pronunciation of the spell, just like Professor Flitwick had instructed them.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," he intoned, his hand following a swish-and-flick movement that seemed as natural as breathing.

The feather briefly drifted upwards, sailing above his head, before settling back on the desk.

"Very good, Mr. Crescent!" said Professor Flitwick. "Take a point for Gryffindor."

That was when the feather Seamus and Harry exploded, leaving them covered in soot. Seamus, who was closer to the blast, had his hair blown back from his forehead.

"Oh dear," said Professor Flitwick, hurrying to them.

Sephiroth hoped that would be the extent of their Halloween misfortune. By the time class was over, he and Angeal were engaged in conversation about the ridiculousness of magical backfires - was it _necessary_ for magic to blow up? Why could it just make a popping sound or something like that? Angeal managed to get his feather floating by the end of class, not quite as fast as Genesis, Sephiroth, or Hermione, but quicker than the rest of the Gryffindors.

They were startled out of their conversation when Hermione shoved by them, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"What's wrong?" Angeal called after her, but she fled down the corridor. He frowned in confusion.

"What do you think that was about?" asked Sephiroth.

Harry and Ron came up from behind them, looking very uncomfortable.

"I think she heard you," said Harry.

Ron looked as though he agreed, but would rather not.

"She must've noticed she's got no friends."

Angeal swatted the back of his head.

" _Ow_ ," hissed Ron. "What was that for? Genesis is always picking on her!"

Genesis seemed to appear next to them, as if summoned by the use of his name.

"We're rivals, of course we fight each other," he said dismissively. "So what happened?"

Once they explained, Ron received another smack on the back of his head from Genesis, which earned him a wild punch. The fight was ended rather quickly by Angeal, who threatened to bash their foreheads together. Sephiroth was reminded of the boat ride before the Sorting Ceremony, when he did just that to Angeal and Genesis after being rudely kicked into the lake.

"You can apologize after class," said Angeal with a note finality.

" _What?!_ " Ron yelped. "But -"

"Now that that's been resolved," said Genesis, deftly ignoring Ron's protests that it definitely _had not_ , "Sephiroth, I think you got higher marks than me in this class."

It Sephiroth a moment to catch up with the sudden shift in topic.

"What?"

Genesis was looking slightly disgruntled.

"You preformed the spell before I did," he said. "So you'll probably get top marks for the class, followed by Hermione and I."

Not for the first time, Sephiroth wondered why this was so important. He exchanged a look with Angeal, who merely shrugged. After growing up with Genesis, he was used to the more unusual eccentricities.

"Next time, I'll have higher marks."

Sephiroth's eye twitched. He had a feeling Genesis was trying to turn their class marks into a competition, but he wasn't foolish enough to fall for it. While he excelled fairly well in practical magic, his theoretical work was abysmal. He had been told more than once to stop writing his assignments like outlined reports, but he really didn't see why the professors needed all of those fluffy words between the important bits. If they wanted a book, they could go to the library and read a book.

All of Genesis's homework ended up looking like formal presentations, complete with flowery handwriting. According to Angeal, the book _Loveless_ was to blame.

The Great Hall derailed all of Sephiroth's thoughts with the speed and efficiency of a homing missile. Apparently the hall had been decorated while they were in class, leaving a grand surprise waiting for them upon dinnertime. The candles, normally floating bare, were inside of pumpkins, warm pinpricks of light glowing from behind carved grinning faces. Silky, white spiderwebs clung to the shadows, fluttering slightly as countless bats descended about the room in a flurry of movement.

A feast of the likes Sephiroth hadn't seen since the start-of-term banquet appeared on dishes of gold. He stared dazedly for a few seconds, before grinning in anticipation. Maybe Halloween wouldn't be so terrible this year.

He didn't even manage a single bite before the doors to the Great Hall slammed open and Professor Quirrel barreled inside. He was white-faced with pure fear, clothing askew and panting for breath.

"Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know."

Quirrel, having told the entire student body there was a deadly creature capable of killing them in the school, chose that moment to pass out.

It was silent for a whole five seconds. Sephiroth could almost see every student repeating Quirrel's words in their head, before comprehension dawned terror in them.

Pandemonium broke out, students jumping out of their seats and pulling out their wands, wanting to run but not willing to leave the Great Hall and the professors' sides. Headmaster Dumbledore stood, sending up purple firecrackers from his to gain their attention and order. He looked grim-faced, but unconcerned.

"Prefects," he said calmly, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

They were halfway out of the Great Hall when a thought occurred to Sephiroth and he frowned.

"Aren't the Slytherin dorms in the dungeon?"

"Nevermind that," said Harry irritably. "We _knew_ something like this was going to happen. Just didn't think it'd be a troll of all things. How did it even get in?"

"Don't ask me," said Ron, "they're supposed to be really stupid. Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

Sephiroth thought about the part of _Hogwarts, A History_ , that stated there were wards to keep dangerous creatures like trolls away from the school. He waited for someone, and by someone he really meant Hermione, to point this out. That was when he remembered Hermione was still in the bathroom, according to Lavender Brown, crying her eyes out - with a troll on the loose. And it was partially their fault (mostly Ron's, but they were to blame by association).

" _Aniki_ ," he said, grabbing Harry's arm. "We've got to find Hermione. She's still in the bathroom, isn't she?"

"What's going on?" said Genesis, who had noticed them stop.

"Hermione," said Harry shortly in explanation.

"Ah, right." Genesis nodded in understanding. "She doesn't know about the troll. Well, let's go."

Ron almost protested, but scowled and relented.

"What about Angeal?" asked Sephiroth as they blended with the Hufflepuffs long enough to make their way down a corridor apart from the main hall.

"He's not my keeper, you know," said Genesis.

Sephiroth refrained from pointing out that wasn't what he asked, deciding it wasn't worth risking another verbal sparring match. Genesis had a habit of winning those.

They had hardly made it ten paces down the corridor when they heard hurried footfalls behind them. Genesis yanked them all behind a statue of a griffin, ignoring Ron's quiet hiss of pain from his tight grip. Sephiroth had the unpleasant experience of being shoved between Harry and Genesis. When Ron shuffled forward, his face was smashed into Genesis's chest, prompting him to accidentally step on Harry's foot trying to pull away.

The result was a tangle of bodies and a loud _thud_ , which thankfully happened after the owner of the footsteps had gone out of hearing range.

"Who was that?" asked Genesis, glaring at Sephiroth balefully. He returned the glare. "I didn't get to see, because _someone_ freaked out."

"It was Snape," said Harry, before a fight could break out. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"How am I supposed to know?" asked Genesis sourly. "I'm not a telepath."

Sephiroth made a mental note to never invade Genesis's personal space again. Even if it wasn't his fault.

Harry and Ron were sneaking after Snape, but stopped to usher them to follow.

"He's heading for the third floor," said Harry once they hesitantly caught up. Sephiroth brought a hand to his nose, stomach churning nauseatingly.

"What _is_ that?" moaned Genesis. "Did someone die in here?"

"I think it's the troll," whispered Sephiroth. "Hear it?"

Genesis paused, then nodded with a grimace. There was heavy and uneven footfalls ahead, rattling and congested breathing from an enormous set of lungs. Something heavy was being dragged along the floor. None of them needed prompting from the other to hide as the creature rounded the bend.

It was at least three times taller than Sephiroth, and a great deal more in width, moving like a flesh-and-bone rock. The dragging sound turned out to be a knobbly club that was gripped in a meaty fist. It reminded Sephiroth of the pictures of cavemen, complete with stubby, thick legs and disproportionately long arms. The only real difference was that it was much larger and had no hair.

"We can take it," breathed Genesis, lifting a fist.

Harry and Ron moved as one, grabbing his arms.

" _No_ ," Harry whispered, hardly above a breath of air as well.

"We could probably take it," said Sephiroth, almost regretful from agreeing with Genesis.

"Don't _even_ -"

The troll wandered into an abandoned doorway, fading from sight.

"Let's lock it in," said Harry quickly. "We don't need to fight it."

"But, fire -"

"I can punch _really_ -"

"The key's in the lock," Ron added hastily.

"You saw how big that thing is," Genesis protested. "It'll smash right through the door!"

"We should just knock it out," said Sephiroth.

"We're _not_ fighting it!" Harry said almost hysterically.

"If you get to fly on brooms, I get to fight a troll," said Sephiroth stubbornly.

"Are you serious?" said Ron disbelievingly.

"I actually agree with Sephiroth," said Genesis. "We can definitely beat it, so let's just -"

A terrified scream echoed through the hallway and they blanched, turning to the doorway the troll had just entered. There was someone inside.

"Was that . . .?" Sephiroth trailed off.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron gasped.

"That's a bathroom?" Genesis sounded confused. "I didn't know there was a bathroom on this corridor."

Sephiroth once again chose not to comment. They darted down the corridor and burst into the room, horrified to find Hermione pressed against the far wall. The troll was between them and her, shattering the stalls and sinks with its club.

Genesis sprang ahead of them, his fists lit with fire. Sephiroth followed shortly, sweeping low to the ground as Genesis launched himself off the floor. They descended upon the troll in unison, working together like a well-oiled machine (almost as if they had done this before).

Sephiroth braced himself on the floor with a single hand and kicked out as hard as he could at the troll's leg.

That was when Genesis's punch slammed into the back of the troll's head, and the creature was knocked clean off its feet from the opposing forces. Genesis turned his body midair, twisting around like an acrobat, and his other fist hit the troll's face hard enough for there to be a loud _crunch_. The ground cracked under its head from the impact, flames rolling out and blackening the floor tiles.

They stumbled back from the troll, hardly even out of breath.

"That . . ." Sephiroth's voice faltered. He had developed a sudden, splitting headache.

"That was easy," said Genesis bluntly, sounding a little disappointed.

"Is . . . is it dead?" asked Hermione faintly.

Harry, looking a little dazed, shook his head.

"I think it's just knocked out," he said.

"You put a crater in the ground," said Ron numbly.

Genesis stared at the cracks his punch created with a perfect imitation of pride, as if he wasn't actually feeling as unnerved as them. Sephiroth understood how he felt, having experienced it every day of his life. Knowledge of his own strength didn't make him any less suspicious of how he gained it. An inherent magical ability, Madam Pomfrey had called it. Would she say the same thing if she saw what their strength had caused?

"You really could punch through walls, couldn't you two?" said Hermione, remembering the rumors that had been circulating Hogwarts. "I thought it was just . . . "

"The professors are coming," said Sephiroth, already hearing their far-off footsteps.

None of them moved. It had seemed like a great idea to leap in and defeat the troll at the time, with Hermione in grave danger, but afterwards they just felt strangely hollow.

A minute later, the professors appeared in a loud clamor, harried and frantic. Professor McGonagall went pale when she them standing next to the downed troll, her lips thinning a second later with fury. Snape's dark eyes darted around the room, before he drew up close to the troll, confirming it was thoroughly unconscious. Behind the two professors was Quirrel, who couldn't seem to hold himself upright properly.

They were in big trouble, Sephiroth noted in a detached way.

"What on earth were you thinking?" said Professor McGonagall, and never had she sounded so angry. Not even when Sephiroth was flinging senbon around her class had she had that tone of voice. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Genesis's eyes flashed and Sephiroth knew he was about to say something he shouldn't, but before he could stop him, Hermione spoke up.

"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me."

Professor McGonagall was nothing short of nonplussed. Hermione pushed in front of Sephiroth and Genesis on shaky legs, determination flashing in her eyes.

"I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them."

Had it been anyone else who was lying so blatantly to an enraged Professor McGonagall, Sephiroth would have thought Ron and Harry's expressions of astonishment were unfounded. Except, _Hermione Granger_ , rule-holder extraordinaire, was telling a bald-faced lie - to a professor. Both Sephiroth and Genesis were struggling with effort not to gape at her in shock as well.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead right now. Genesis punched the back of its head and Sephiroth kicked its feet out from under it, and Genesis knocked it out. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Sephiroth thought she could have done with lying a bit more about _how_ they defeated the troll. The hastily understanding looks on Harry and Ron's faces were very unconvincing and for a second, Sephiroth was sure Professor McGonagall, or Snape, would call them out on it. Instead, Professor McGonagall's face cleared slightly and they all ever-so-slightly relaxed.

"Well - in that case," she said, visibly collecting her thoughts. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Apparently she had forgotten the part where Hermione said Sephiroth and Genesis took it out on their own. Sephiroth caught Professor Snape's cold, dark-eyed gaze, and realized the Potions Master had definitely not forgotten - and likely, neither had Professor McGonagall. They were choosing not to comment on it at the moment.

"Miss Granger, five points will taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall, and Sephiroth couldn't help but feel sorry for Hermione. These would be the first points she lost and it wasn't even her fault. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione, with her head bowed down, padded out of the bathroom in silence.

Professor McGonagall turned to the rest of them, and Sephiroth prepared himself for the lecture of his life. Her lips were pursed, a frank expression on her face that did little to ease his tension.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

They all made to leave, but Professor Snape's low voice stopped them.

"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Crescent," he said. His eyebrow twitched when Ron and Genesis stopped. "Rhapsodos."

Genesis gave a razor-thin grin.

"Might as well just start referring to us by our middle names," he said. "Ginny's coming next year, you know."

Professor Snape didn't look amused.

"Come with me," he ordered shortly.

"Just where are you taking them, Severus?" asked Professor McGonagall sharply.

"You know where," he said irritably.

Something unreadable flashed in her eyes and her face smoothed out into disconcerting blankness. Then she turned from them to snappily tell Harry and Ron to leave.

Genesis and Sephiroth were forced to jog to keep up with Snape as he swept out of the bathroom.

"Um, where are we going?" asked Sephiroth once they had rounded the corner in the corridor.

Professor Snape slanted them a sideways look, just visible through a veil of greasy hair.

"You're going to the Hospital Wing," he finally said. "There are questions that need answering."

* * *

 **A/N: Yay, cliffhanger...ish. Sort of.**

 **That one-sided fight was probably a lot cooler looking in my head, haha. XD I hope I did the characters justice.** **I do kind of feel bad for the professors, though. They're gonna have, what, seven Weasleys in school next year?**

 **Thanks for all the favs and follows and reviews! Special thanks to Kairitrion Cerulean and FireEmblemLover39! It would take me a month to get these out without you guys. :D**

 **Oh, and LEGEND OF ZELDA: BREATH OF THE WILD COMES OUT SOON, I CAN'T WAIT TO BINGE PLAY IT. Soooo, I _might_ miss an update. Maybe. I've got a couple chapters already outlined, so it shouldn't be so hard to update, but _just in case_ \- you guys know why. (MARCH 3RD MARCH 3RD MARCH 3RD).**

 **I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Till next week~**


	8. Chapter 8

08

There was lead in his stomach and something that felt like terror in his heart as they entered the Hospital Wing. His thoughts were scrambled, chasing each other around and never reaching a conclusion. Sephiroth wanted to know - didn't want to know - had always been so divided he never tried to move forward, to learn more about himself.

A monster, or a human? The question rang over and over in his head when Madam Pomfrey busted over, forehead lined with stress. She had been handing out calming potions to frantic students since Professor Quirrel shouted the bad news to the entire school, and it was apparently starting to wear her down. There were a couple students sitting on cots, a few of the faint-hearted ones lying back with their eyes closed. She waved them over to an isolated cot away from the others, a curtain pulled halfway around it in some semblance of privacy.

Sephiroth wondered in horror if she was going to make them change into those backless hospital gowns. Forget potential ground-breaking secrets and lies, those backless hospital gowns were the true nightmare.

"Sit down," she said with a surprising amount of gentleness. She motioned to the single cot in the quartered off area. "You're both perfectly alright, so calm yourselves."

As if she was working magic, Sephiroth felt tension he didn't know had built up ease from his shoulders.

"So why are they here?" she asked, turning to Professor Snape, whose upper lip curled into a sneer.

"They took out a fully grown mountain troll," he said in explanation.

Madam Pomfrey didn't look nearly impressed as Sephiroth thought she should have been.

"Yes, any wizard worth their salt could with a little innovation, and they're top of their classes," she said. "Neither of them are injured, so why are they really here?"

"Mr. . . . Rhapsodos here knocked it unconscious with one punch."

Madam Pomfrey lost her bluster, nonplussed.

"They need a full exam," said Professor Snape. "If a student can punch craters into the ground, we need to know."

His dark eyes flicked to Genesis's face deliberately.

"They could be a danger to the other students."

Genesis barred his teeth in anger, hands balling into fists at his sides.

"As you care about the other students!" he spat. "Don't stand there acting all high and mighty, as you even care about anyone else! And don't look at us like we're _monsters_ or something!"

Professor Snape watched them for one second longer, and then turned back to Madam Pomfrey.

"They need tests run, blood samples, a full examination," he said, completely ignoring them. Sephiroth didn't know why, but the action of being ignored was somehow worse than his hatred. "I want a couple samples to study, as well."

Madam Pomfrey recovered from her shock, frowning disapprovingly at him.

"Severus, these are children, don't speak like that in front of them," she said, her voice holding a quality of steel. She sighed, before turning to them again. "Be patient a few moments. I need to talk to Professor Snape in private."

She all but dragged Professor Snape out of the room.

"Tch, I'm in half a mind to ditch this place," said Genesis irritably. "What do you think, Se - Sephiroth?"

He hardly heard Genesis. The talk of blood samples - _white lights and cold steel_ \- and physical examinations had revived that ball of anxiety from the first time he stepped into Professor Snape's class. He had been frightened of the pickled animals lining the walls at the time, but now he couldn't get rid of this strange image. It didn't belong, had never happened, _would never happen_ \- but now he was locked behind a world of glass, green acid burning his lungs and he couldn't stay awake -

" _Sephiroth!_ " Genesis was calling him, shaking his arm.

Sephiroth blinked, startled, to see Madam Pomfrey had returned and she was inspecting his eyes. She pulled her hand back from his eyelid, wand held in hand. There was a platter full of potions on the bedside desk that hadn't been there before.

"Ah, good," she said tersely. "I'd rather you not have a calming potion right now. It would affect your test results. No - don't panic, boy. What do you think I'm going to do to you?"

Tie him down, cut him open - take away his humanity - and he didn't even know where those thoughts were coming from, but they felt true. That scared him more than anything else.

She shook her head, tutting softly.

"We're not taking any blood samples, so no panicking." Her fists were propped against her hips in a perfect visage of stubbornness. "Professor Snape has absolutely no good reason to acquire them, and until he can provide one, he'll have to go through me."

Sephiroth decided Madam Pomfrey wasn't too bad.

From then on, they went through a multitude of tests, from how far and clearly they could see, to random noises in their ears. Madam Pomfrey cast a spell on their legs and arms and had them kick and punch, a strand of gold spiking to indicate their strength and speed level. Her face remained impressively unchanging the entire time, despite informing them on many different occasions they had far surpassed any charts they kept on physical strength.

She didn't explain much, which was probably for the best, because Sephiroth was no medic-wizard, nor did he want to become one. He had no idea what the difference was between twenty-two kilograms of grip strength and a hundred kilograms of grip strength, and how the latter was abnormal.

It was two hours before they were finished. The only thing that made the tedium worth it was that Sephiroth now had a medical excuse to eat as much as he wanted at meals now. As it turned out, the many speculations that the extra calories were needed to fuel him were correct. His regenerative and abnormal strength wreaked havoc on his energy level, according to Madam Pomfrey, so he really did need to eat far more than the average human being.

And so did Genesis, as it turned out. Sephiroth was forced to sit and watch as Madam Pomfrey berated him for not eating enough and stated she would personally set up a diet program if he didn't fix the issue himself. The image would have been hilarious, were it not for the fact Genesis looked like he was about to set something on fire.

Sephiroth went to the Hospital Wing expecting to learn he was a monster - he left still not knowing if he was a monster, but with the order to eat as much as he wanted.

"It was worth it," he said as they walked to the Gryffindor tower later that night.

"Believe it or not, food isn't the end all," said Genesis, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Pull your head out of the clouds! We're _freaks,_ Sephiroth! The two of us have more raw physical and magical power than anyone in this entire school and _no one knows why!_ "

Genesis gave a humorless laugh.

"I want to know! I really, really want to know," he said. "I _obsess_ over it! How - how are you so unconcerned?"

Sephiroth wasn't the person to ask those questions. He couldn't believe he actually looked calm at the moment, because all Genesis's words did was tear up every single little thing he had ever been worried over. He didn't feel like he should look calm.

Unlike Genesis, he didn't want to know the secrets of his life - of who he was right now, or even six years ago, before he met Harry. He wanted to run away, to sit and do homework with Harry like nothing was wrong. He would even go on another late-night excursion, risk running into Filch and meet that three-headed dog again, if it meant never facing those insecurities.

 _I don't want to know_.

"Well?!" snapped Genesis, forcibly pulling Sephiroth back to the present.

He glanced away, unable to look Genesis in the eyes.

"I don't . . . know," he said, instead of the truth. _I don't want to know_. "It's too late for me to think about these things."

Genesis scowled darkly.

"You won't be able to avoid it forever," he said, as if sensing Sephiroth's wish to run away from the truth. "I'm going to Snape in the morning. Maybe he'll be able to figure something out."

He parted ways after saying that, heading somewhere that definitely wasn't in the direction of the Gryffindor tower. Sephiroth watched him slip away into the shadows, part of him wanting to reach out and stop Genesis. However, he just stood there, motionless, and watched his friend disappear.

Halloween had ended, and out of all the ways it had gone wrong in the past, Sephiroth had never before felt so much regret.

* * *

Weeks blurred by and Sephiroth never found out if Genesis actually went to Professor Snape. They slipped back into uneasy peace that was a shadow of how things felt before, but none of them were willing to risk breaking it. Genesis was moodier than usual, Angeal seemed to be distracted half the time, and Harry had thrown himself into his Quidditch practice with obsessiveness seconded only to Oliver Wood himself. None of them every brought that night up, and they were all just a little too good at ignoring the topic for their own good.

The only bright side to the whole mess that they were now friends with Hermione Granger. Rule-keeping and strict, but also brilliant in terms of homework and studying, she was not disinclined to help them so long as they also put in some effort. Sephiroth struggled with the "effort" part of homework, but it was worth reading over her parchments for pointers (something that made Ron furious, because she wouldn't let him do it). If she got anymore helpful, he was afraid Harry might build a small shrine in her honor.

November brought cold air and frost, the precursor to the wintery months ahead of them, and the beginning of the official Quidditch season. Hushed excitement built as it grew nearer to the first game of the season and the Quidditch teams of every house fought almost daily over the pitch for their practice sessions. Sooner than later, it turned into a game of _which professor can give the teams a permission slip faster than the others._ The teams who weren't given permission to use the pitch weren't very amused by this little game. However, none were more annoyed than Harry Potter, who wanted as much practice as humanly possible.

A couple days before Harry's first game, and there was no way of telling who was responsible or why, news of his position as Seeker got out. Crowds of students came to wish him luck, some to tell him he would fail miserably, others to simply nod their heads and walk away - which was weird, Sephiroth thought, and a waste of time. However, some of the comments were amusing, despite Harry's steadily graying pallor as the days wore on closer to the first match.

"A mattress," Sephiroth snickered.

Harry threw him a look, but was too busy picking lethargically at his food to say anything. The forced lighthearted attitude over Quidditch that Sephiroth had built up over several hours drained away in a matter of seconds. He was looking forward to this first game as much as Harry.

"Don't worry," said Sephiroth, imbuing his tone with false cheer. "Fred and George are really good Beaters, from what I've heard. And they're twins, so their teamwork must be stellar. None of the Bludgers will hit you."

"That's _rich_ coming from you," snorted Genesis over his bowl of soup. He wasn't fooled. "Who was the one who almost had a panic attack when he found his brother was on the team?"

"Everyone changes," said Sephiroth, refusing to look him in the eyes.

"Not overnight," said Genesis flatly.

"You don't know tha -"

" _You two!_ " Angeal groaned, smacking his forehead. He looked up with bloodshot eyes, having stayed up to ungodly hours finishing his homework (and a good portion of Ron's). "Give it rest, will you?"

"Don't lump me in with him!" Genesis protested.

"He started it!" said Sephiroth at the exact same time.

Genesis shot him an incredulous look.

"Seriously?"

"Well, you did -"

Their foreheads were smacked together by Angeal, who appeared thoroughly fed up with their arguing. Genesis launched back in his seat away from Sephiroth, rubbing his forehead and looking furious.

"What the he -"

"Language," said Angeal.

"I can cuss if I want to!"

"Just try to get along for once?" sighed Angeal.

Sephiroth and Genesis exchanged a look, and then turned away with identical scowls. A few of the nearby Gryffindor stared at them in bewilderment, as if wondering how on earth they were still friends.

All traces of their argument were forgotten later during Defense Against the Dark Arts. For the passed couple weeks, Sephiroth had been suffering on and off migraines, made much worse by perpetual smell of garlic in the DADA classroom. The noxious fumes of Professor Snape's class didn't help much, but something about the DADA classroom made his head throb in agony. He had noticed Harry occasionally flinching while in the class, too.

The day before Harry's first match found him holed up in the dormitory, windows closed and bed curtains drawn shut. He could have - should have - gone to Madam Pomfrey for a potion, but he would rather avoid all the questions that would come with a visit to the Hospital Wing. _What if his superior strength was causing his headaches? How does that work? As it turns out, some blood samples will be needed after all_.

It was irrational. Sephiroth kicked the curtains open and stalked out of the dorm, clothing awry and his silver hair hopelessly tangled. The sudden light made his eyes close reflexively and when he adjusted, Hermione was crossing the common room to his side, strides quick and determined.

She sighed when she drew nearer.

"You should rest a little longer," she said. "You really do look tired."

Coming from the resident workaholic, that must have meant he looked like something the cat dragged in. Speaking of which, he hadn't seen Shinra around all day and was starting to get worried.

"Is your head feeling better, though?" she asked, having pestered him for hours earlier to go to the Hospital Wing for a potion, before compromising on Sephiroth resting in the dormitory.

Sephiroth nodded, pleased to find he could do that without instantly regretting it. For a couple seconds, she stood there, watching him wordlessly. Then she let out a faintly amused laugh, dragging him over to her table, which was piled with books and parchment. He noticed one of her parchments were scrapped, although the work looked perfect, and he briefly contemplated what tiny minuscule error she had made to rewrite it. A smudge of ink in the bottom corner caught his eye, and he realized she rewrote it for aesthetic purposes. His eye twitched.

"I won't lie," she said, eyes bright with mirth, "you look like a bird tried to make a nest out of your hair."

He looked away from her perfectionist work, flushing lightly and combing his fingers through the long strands of silver hair.

"Although, why you keep it so long is a mystery to me," said Hermione as she procured a brush from her bag of supplies. At his questioning look, she bristled. "It never hurts to be prepared!"

Unfortunately, having knee-length hair made brushing it immensely painful. Five minutes later, Hermione was looking very impatient.

"I think I'm looking up spells for hair care next," she mumbled. "Never thought I'd say that . . ."

Sephiroth sensed them before actually seeing, two ominous shadows that immediately sent off every single alarm bell he possessed in the back of his head. They each grabbed a shoulder, pawing at his hair - his precious hair which he tried to pry away from them, but they had grips like steel when they wanted to - and giggling incessantly.

"We can put it up!" said Lavender Brown.

"I've wanted to do something with your hair for ages," said Parvati Patil.

"Braids?" suggested Lavender.

"Maybe an up-do?" said Parvati.

Lavender frowned thoughtfully while Sephiroth contemplated the odds of him escaping with his dignity intact. The outcome was depressingly low, but he wasn't about to give up hope, since Hermione was still with him - except she looked torn between amusement at Sephiroth's expression of horror and irritation at Lavender and Parvati. It didn't seem like she would be much help this time.

It occurred to him that they really had been waiting to do something like this for a while. Paranoia reared its head and for a second he thought they might have even been watching him - _l_ _ike stalkers_. His fellow classmates had never seemed creepy before, but now he was reevaluating them.

"An up-do will make him look really girly," said Lavender.

They paused. Parvati finagled his face so he was looking up at her - she was at least a head and half taller than him - and scrutinized him closely. Whatever she saw made her eyes light up. (Sephiroth could almost _see_ her mental image of himself in a dress and almost whimpered).

"You're right!" she said. "He looks like a girl!"

What was left of Sephiroth's dignity crumbled and died on the spot. He shot Hermione a pleading look. However, she had been distracted by her work and looked as though she was on the verge of a major epiphany. She wouldn't be of any help whatsoever.

"Hey, you're Japanese right?"

 _Oh, any deities that might be listening, please don't do this to me_ , he prayed.

"I've read tons of stuff centered around Japan," said Lavender. "Are you into _moe?_ "

That was it, Sephiroth didn't want to live in this world any longer.

"I . . have things to do," he said hastily, forcibly yanking himself away from them. If he was anyone else, there would be bruises on his arms from the effort. He made a running leap for the portrait hole. "See you later, Hermione!"

Hermione absentmindedly waved, head bowed over her homework.

Sephiroth didn't stop running until he was absolutely sure Lavender and Parvati weren't following. He let himself sag against the corridor wall with a sigh of relief, tugging at his hair with a sour expression. From a practical standpoint, having his hair so long was rather inconvenient and the logical thing would be to cut it. However, Sephiroth wasn't known for being logical and he liked his long hair. He just hoped girls attacking his hair wouldn't be an issue in the future.

He almost started laughing. All of the girls attacking his hair? What was he thinking? That was just Lavender and Parvati - they always did strange things like that.

About an hour later, he found Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the courtyard. They were clustered around a blue fire in a jar, which Hermione had probably conjured up to warm them. When he hurried over the join them, they were talking animatedly about Quidditch facts, and that apparently Fred and George's story of someone waking up in the Sahara Desert was true. It made him wonder how many of their other stories also held a ring of truth to them.

"And you want to play this game?" said Sephiroth morosely. "What if you wake up in the Sahara Desert?"

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Knew you didn't get over flying," he said. "I bet it's just exaggeration."

"I don't know," said Hermione. "I doubt they'd put it in a book if it was just hearsay."

"Tell that to every Muggle conspiracy theorist book ever," grumbled Sephiroth. He caught a glimpse of a paragraph on Seeker injuries. "What's that?"

Harry quickly flipped the page.

"Nothing important," he said with a smile.

"It was really important, wasn't it?" said Sephiroth sulkily.

"Heads up," said Ron, "Snape's coming."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer around the fire. Standing apart from them, Sephiroth wasn't impressed by their attempts to look nonchalant. His attention was quickly grabbed by the way Snape was limping, face creased with more lines than usual from pain. Despite the way Professor Snape had wanted Genesis's and his blood samples earlier, Sephiroth couldn't help but wonder if he was too badly injured and why he hadn't gone to the Hospital Wing.

Almost as soon as he saw them, Snape redirected his path toward them, obvious looking for someone to pick on. Sephiroth wanted to know what the Headmaster was thinking when he hired a man who clearly hated children to teach them a complicated subject like potions - or to teach children at all.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

Sephiroth glanced at Harry - he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, other than the fire, but that was hidden by their bodies. Harry held out _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and Sephiroth wondered since when was it illegal to possess library books.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

They waited until Snape was out of earshot to start complaining.

"Is he allowed to do that?" asked Sephiroth, turning to Hermione.

She shrugged, frowning thoughtfully.

"There are hundreds of rules, and they're all subject to change under varying circumstances and . . ."

Sephiroth figured she probably wasn't going to say anything of use and tuned her out.

"Wonder what's wrong with his leg?" said Harry, staring after Snape's limping form. He still looked angry.

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," replied Ron.

With _Quidditch Through the Ages_ confiscated by Snape and having nearly been caught performing magic outside the classrooms, Hermione put out the fire and they headed back into the school. Sephiroth must have been noticeably dragging his heels as they returned to the common room, because Harry stopped halfway to the Gryffindor tower to inquire what was wrong. He wasn't about to explain there were several girls waiting in the common room to dress him up like a girl, but Hermione took the choice away from him.

"Oh, did you ever get away from Lavender and Parvati?" she asked blithely. "They wanted you to cross-dress, I remember."

 _And you were absolutely no help_ , thought Sephiroth irritably.

Ron broke into laughter.

"They what? Dress up like a . . ." his voice broke off and he suddenly turned to study Sephiroth closely, as if seeing him for the first time. "Blimey, mate. You do like kind of girly!"

Hermione scowled at Ron.

"Don't be rude, Ronald. He can't help the features he was born with," said Hermione, which wasn't comforting in the least.

Sephiroth just stood there and mentally waved his dignity goodbye. The saddest thing was that he couldn't even refute what they were saying. He followed them to the common room in a sort of numb stupor, unresponsive to Harry's worried glances, while Ron kept breaking into sniggers at random moments. Hermione tried to quiet him on several occasions, but it didn't help much that she was struggling against an amused smile, too.

The common room was devoid of Lavender and Parvati, and Sephiroth couldn't help but give a sigh of incredible relief. However, that didn't stop him from tensing every time the portrait hole opened and someone walked in. Fred and George showed up to show their "encouragement" and commented that in a couple years, Sephiroth would probably look even more like a girl than the other girls at Hogwarts - apparently they could predict his features would turn out that way. They left shortly after, laughing uproariously, while Hermione urged him to ignore them and focus on his charms homework.

It was dark when Harry finally set his homework down with a defeated sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses. Sephiroth noted his ashen pallor and immediately knew he was thinking about the upcoming match tomorrow, the strain of playing his first game taking its toll on his concentration. The increasingly doubtful comments he had received all day hadn't helped his confidence. He set down his quill and ink, rising from the table swiftly.

"I'm getting my book back from Snape," he said firmly.

Sephiroth thought Harry's stress and exhaustion might finally be getting to him.

"Better you than me," said Hermione and Ron in unison. They looked at each other with equal parts annoyance and bemusement.

Eager to get away from homework and Hermione's insistent gaze, Sephiroth quickly volunteered to accompany him. He ignored Hermione's look of _It won't get done on its own_ , and jogged after Harry, who was already halfway down the corridor by the time Sephiroth stepped out of the portrait hole.

"Are you sure this will work?" asked Sephiroth as they neared the staffroom.

"I think Snape will give it back if he's with the other professors," said Harry.

A mere thought, theory even, wasn't much to go on in Sephiroth's opinion, but he chose not to say that out loud. He also decided against telling Harry he didn't hear very many people in the staffroom. He knew how much Snape unnerved Harry and to be honest, after the visit to the Hospital wing during Halloween, Sephiroth was also wary of him. It was only natural to be wary of a man who wanted to take samples of his blood for research purposes.

They stopped in front of the staffroom door and Harry gathered his courage, raising a fist to knock. No one answered them.

"Well, we tried," said Sephiroth. "I'm sure there's another _Quidditch Through the Ages_ in the library, right?"

"What are you two doing down here?" came the voice of Genesis. He was strolling aimlessly down the corridor, _Loveless_ in hand, and looked bored out of his mind.

"Trying to get _Quidditch Through the Ages_ back," said Harry bitterly. "Snape took it."

"Oh?" Something flashed in Genesis's eyes, but it was gone to fast for Sephiroth to pinpoint it. He marched up to them and stared hard at the staffroom door.

Then he kicked it open with a shout.

"Hey, Harry wants his book back!"

" _What are you doing?!_ " Sephiroth hissed frantically.

Harry looked like he wanted to run, or maybe melt into a hole and die.

Inside the staffroom was Professor Snape and Filch, the former with his robes up around his knees. Filch had a handful of bandages, kneeling down. They were both staring at them, at the moment to nonplussed to say anything.

Genesis turned a little green.

"Oh. I'm sorry," he said. "Bad timing."

He closed the door quickly.

"POTTER!" roared Snape after them.

Genesis nudged them in the opposite direction, informing them that this was the part where they started running for their lives. Sephiroth and Harry obliged, sprinting out of earshot of Snape's enraged howls. They didn't stop until they were back in the Gryffindor common room, Harry panting his lungs out, while Genesis and Sephiroth remained unaffected from the sudden dash.

They collapsed into the sofas by the fire, Harry looking particularly mournful at the prospect of never getting his book back. Sephiroth contemplated how they would explain to the demonic librarian, Mrs. Pince, that they lost one of the books. For a second he entertained the idea of just telling the truth: Snape invented a rule on the spot and took it. Then he realized that was unlikely to fly, and settled on weaving a tale of fire breathing dragons - several of them.

"Did you get it?" asked Ron, he and Hermione migrating from their table to the sofas. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," said Genesis carelessly, "but I heard him mention something about that three-headed dog. I think he tried to get passed it."

"Really?" said Harry, eyes widened. Understanding dawned on his face. "You know what this means? He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him - he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

"Looks like I get a Nimbus then," said Genesis. "Because Snape wasn't anywhere near that trapdoor. That guy reeks of potions and ingredients, but there was nothing that smelled remotely like him around the third corridor."

At their questioning looks, he added, "I checked it out the next morning."

Ron sighed, shaking his head.

"Sometimes I forget you're like a human bloodhound."

"That doesn't mean it wasn't Snape who released the troll," said Harry stubbornly. "Could you really smell everything, too? The troll stunk something awful, it could have messed with your nose."

Genesis looked vaguely offended.

"I think I can rely on my nose, thank you very much," he said.

"Besides that," said Hermione, who looked a little disconcerted with their conversation, "he wouldn't. I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

Ron just looked annoyed.

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something. I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything passed Snape. But what's he after?" he asked rhetorically. "What's that dog guarding?"

"Look, Angeal's pretty good at reading people," said Genesis impatiently, "and he hasn't thought anything's off with Snape. You know, other than being a royal git."

"Seph, what do you think?" asked Harry, turning to watch him. "You're good that kind of stuff, too."

Sephiroth would really rather beg to differ. He could remember Snape's cold, dark eyes - stringy hair and pasty face, glinting tools and sterile lights. He remembered Snape asking for blood samples and completely ignoring them, _as if they weren't even there_.

"I don't know," he said. It was the truth. He didn't know, but he had a feeling they were all going to find out, one way or another.

He had a very hard time sleeping that night, and it wasn't just because he was nervous over Harry's match the next day. Snape's face had been truly terrifying. Sephiroth hadn't even thought it was possible for a human being to look so angry - and he lived with Vernon Dursley, so that was worth a thousand words by itself. Even if Snape wasn't trying to sabotage the Headmaster or Hogwarts, Sephiroth wouldn't be surprised if he really did try to get back at Harry (or himself and Genesis, but especially Harry).

Sephiroth reached out and pulled the red curtains around his bed open slightly, allowing beams of silvery moonlight to filter in. It had to be midnight already, Neville's loud snores rising above the quieter snuffles of Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Ron was mumbling something under his breath, while Genesis and Angeal made very little noise in their sleep.

"You're awake?" Harry's voice floated from his bed, mostly out of principle because they had both already known the other was fully conscious.

"Yeah," Sephiroth replied half a beat later. "Are you still nervous?"

Harry gave a huff of laughter.

"As you aren't?" he said. Then he sighed and relented, "Yeah, I'm really nervous. But that still doesn't mean you get to jump out and shield me, got that?"

Sephiroth rolled his eyes - something he had picked up from Genesis.

"Yeah, yeah."

He turned over, letting his curtain fall shut and blot out the moonlight. He couldn't see it himself, but he knew his eyes were luminous in the darkness. Sephiroth didn't remember falling asleep that night.

"You _have_ to," said Hermione instantly the next morning, over the excited clamor of the other students. They were in the Great Hall, attempting to coerce Harry into eating even a bite before his first match. "You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

Sephiroth shoved a plate full of a wide selection of foods toward him.

"Just a little bit?" he asked, trying to the puppy-eyes that would get him away with murder when he was six. Harry didn't even hesitate.

"A bit of toast?" suggest Hermione, pushing another plate of buttered toast at him.

"Madam Pomfrey says eating is very important," said Sephiroth.

Genesis elbowed his side.

"That's because we've got heightened metabolisms."

"Yeah, what he said."

"You're an idiot."

"I am _not_ an - oh."

"Yeah."

"Shut up."

Sephiroth resisted the urge to cross his arms and sulk, because that was the last thing his pride needed Genesis picking on, and instead he focused on convincing Harry to eat something - anything. He was so anxious that he couldn't even have a bite of food. On one hand, Sephiroth could understand, as he remembered after the Whomping Willow incident had had been too confused to eat anything. He also distinctly remembered everyone dragging him to the Great Hall to eat, whether he liked or not.

He might warped the memory a bit, but there was no one to call him out over it.

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. They all turned to listen, because he rarely joined in their conversations. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

Now Sephiroth regretted listening. Judging from Harry's sickly pallor, he also regretted it.

"Thanks, Seamus," he said.

One way or another, eleven o'clock crawled to the present and Sephiroth found himself being directed toward the stands around the Quidditch pitch. For all of Harry's talk at not wanting anyone to run under him with a mattress, he was looking in desperate need of help at the moment. Sephiroth watched the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams from the stands, crushed between Ron and Genesis, deliberately building a nonchalant expression.

The next hour or so (or however long Quidditch matches lasted) was going to be terrifying.

Genesis yawned and Sephiroth struck by the sudden urge to strangle him. How could he look so unconcerned?

"Don't look so worried," said Angeal, patting Sephiroth's shoulder. "There's injuries sometimes, yes, but Madam Hooch will want a clean game. If they follow the rules, no one will get too seriously injured."

"This is Slytherin," said Ron pessimistically. "They're going to break the rules."

"With Madam Hooch watching?" said Hermione doubtfully.

"They'll just do in a more subtler way," Genesis commented. "So she won't notice."

Angeal sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I was trying to get him to relax," he said, waving his hand toward Sephiroth in a vague gesture that somehow miffed him.

Seamus and Dean adjusted the charmed sheet displaying _Potter for President_ , complete with flashing colors and an animated lion that did a silent roar every minute or so. Sephiroth had seen Harry glance up at it a couple times, and his sickly pallor seemed to have faded, even if just a little.

Sephiroth was already leaning forward slightly, fingers digging into the low wooden railing, as Madam Hooch blew her incredibly loud, almost painfully so, silver whistle. Fifteen brooms shot into the air and the first Quidditch game of the season began.

* * *

 **A/N: And so chapter eight concludes... :D**

 **I just can't see Madam Pomfrey letting anything happen to Sephiroth or Genesis in her hospital, no matter how curious Snape gets. Not that Snape, for all he acts grouchy and generally hates kids, would try to experiment on them or anything. ...I've also been making vague anime references in here, lol!**

 **Thanks for all the favs and follows! Special thanks to Kairitrion Cerulean and FireEmblemLover39 - who reminded me to update, because I COMPLETELY forgot. I was binge playing Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild to unhealthy levels. It was awesome. :D**

 **Till the next chapter~**


	9. Chapter 9

09

" _And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too -"_

"JORDAN!"

Sephiroth couldn't help but smirk at Lee Jordan's commentary. Giving the fact he hung out around the Weasley twins the most out of everyone in the school, including their own brothers, it was no surprise his commentary was going to be amusing. And, Sephiroth noted the furious flush on Professor McGongall's face, a little offensive. She watched his every move, as if daring to put a foot out of line, and of course he did dare - several times, in fact. His blatant bias toward the Gryffindor team only made it all the more entertaining.

As soon as the whistle went off, Harry had climbed higher than the other players so as to get a good, wide view of the entire pitch. This was little relief to Sephiroth, because he had noticed the Slytherin Beaters aim the Bludgers at him on several occasions. Luckily, Fred and George lived up to their reputation, and had been smoothly and effortlessly redirecting the Bludgers back at the opposing team. The twins were one of a kind, moving with a special kind of synchronicity that not many, perhaps even none other then themselves, could claim.

"They're good," said Angeal. "I think Wood's right - this is probably the best team Gryffindor's seen in a while."

Genesis made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat, eyes darting from player to player.

"Harry's looking a little shaky on his broom."

"Who wouldn't with those Bludgers flying at him?" grumbled Sephiroth. He brushed his hair out of his face as a strong gust blew it out of place. The noise from the stands was starting to make his ears feel incredibly overwhelmed.

"It's his first game, give him a break," Angeal berated Genesis lightly. "He's got his undivided attention on find the Snitch, that's remarkable in its own right."

"It is?" said Sephiroth.

Angeal nodded.

"Usually those who play competitive sports like this are pretty unfocused on their first match," he explained. "It's perfectly normal, but Harry's really got his head in the game."

" - _nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which -_ "

Genesis snorted in amusement. Angeal informed Hermione that the twins always switched places to mix up their mother, which earned a look of disapproval. Thinking back, Sephiroth could remember them doing that to Mrs. Weasley at the train station as he was looking for a way to board. She had seemed to take great aggravation from their stunt, only to repeatedly remind them to eat healthily seconds later. (Sephiroth half-wondered in the back of his head, if that was how all mothers acted).

" _\- Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!_ "

The answering roar was deafening. Sephiroth clapped his hands over his ears, wincing slightly, and noticed Genesis and Angeal doing the same. The others didn't look so uncomfortable. Sometimes having such sharp hearing was a bit painful, especially when surrounded by elated Gryffindors, who didn't hold back their whoops and cheers. Discomfort or not, the win for their house was immensely satisfying.

Hermione squinted her eyes up at Harry, who was a little more than a dark spot against the clear blue sky. He did look a little anxious up there, flying in lazy loops in what was probably an attempt to work off his tenseness. However, Angeal was right; Harry's green eyes were scanning the pitch over and over in search of the Snitch, despite his nervousness.

"You can see him?" said Hermione in bemusement.

"I'm going to do a public announcement that you're all superhuman," complained Ron. "Honestly, how many times have I explained this so far?"

"Superhuman? Isn't that pushing it?" said Hermione, but her voice faltered when he caught Ron's flat stare. "What?"

"Genesis once parachuted from the top of our house with sheets," he said, bald-faced. "Our _four-story_ house."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something.

"He was _six_. And don't tell me you've already forgotten how they decked a mountain troll."

She closed her mouth, turning to give Genesis an incredulous look. Genesis flushed lightly, glaring something fierce at Ron.

"You're really bringing that up now? It's been _years_!"

"Yeah," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "Now you could jump off the pitch and not bat an eye."

"I think that's a _slight_ exaggeration," said Angeal, mouth twitching in a suppressed smile.

Ron thought differently, but nobody else seemed to care about that. Sephiroth, who had carefully chosen to say nothing during that conversation, smiled faintly. The origins of their power was confusing, even disconcerting, but after thinking over it for a while, he was comforted to know there were others like him. He even allowed himself to entertain the idea there might be others like himself out there, and he suspected Genesis and Angeal felt the same.

"How is that even possible?" said Hermione. She was thinking so hard Sephiroth could almost see her mind whirling. It was making him dizzy.

"Is it magic? I've heard magic can sometimes manifest differently, such as natural mind-readers and metamorphagi -"

"We don't really know," said Genesis shortly. "Ow, Bludger to the face. That had to hurt."

"Budge up here, move along - that's a heavy face, Genesis," came the voice of Hagrid, as he worked his way through the Gryffindors. They shuffled over to give him room to sit in the stands. "Bin watchin' from me hut, but it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," Ron replied. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, and Sephiroth nodded his head emphatically in agreement. Now if it could just stay that way, the day would be perfect.

Hagrid pulled out a pair of binoculars and lifted them to his face to watch Harry. After a moment he offered them to Sephiroth (who was battling his hair again - the wind was doing a number on him).

"Figured you might be worried about yer brother," he said gruffly in explanation.

Sephiroth, touched by the gesture, didn't have the heart to tell Hagrid that he didn't need the binoculars, instead grabbing them to look through. He thought they may have actually made the image of Harry a little blurrier, compared to his own flawless eyesight. He tensed once when a Bludger went flying at Harry, but Fred quickly intervened and slammed it back at Marcus Flint.

" _Slytherin in possession_ ," said Lee Jordon, " _Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?_ "

"Where?!" gasped Ron and Hermione.

"By Pucey," Genesis pointed out.

Half a beat later, Harry dove after it, moving through the air with the speed of a bullet. Sephiroth handed the binoculars back to Hagrid, who looked a little bemused but took them anyway, and clenched the wooden railing tightly. The Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs, had seen the Snitch as well, and was speeding along right next to Harry. They were only matched for a couple seconds, before Harry's latent talent and broom won out, pulling ahead of Higgs.

He reached for the Snitch, fingers a breath away from the shiny golden surface - Sephiroth could picture the match ending early - and he sensed the danger before he saw it.

"WATCH OUT!" he yelled, even though Harry could hear him.

"Whoa, Sephiroth!" Ron grabbed the back of his Hogwarts robes. "Where are you going?"

Marcus Flint moved - Harry pulled back but was too late to keep from smacking into him, rolling to the side in disorientation.

"FOUL!" the Gryffindors roared furiously.

"That's a foul!" snarled Genesis with the others. "What was he thinking?"

"He was Slytherin, what do you expect?" snapped Ron bitterly. Then he added in annoyance, "Sephiroth, stop trying to jump off the stands. Didn't Harry say not to help him?"

"He could have _killed_ my brother!" Sephiroth growled, aiming a glare at Flint.

"Madam Hooch won't let anyone die," said Hermione confidently. "And all the other professors are in the stands, too."

Another gale of wind blew by as Dean was explaining to Ron and Hagrid what a red card was, and Sephiroth felt someone grab at his hair. He looked over in surprise to see Hermione, who was incredibly frustrated and, strangely enough, pulling a ribbon from one of her pockets. Her left eye seemed a little red and tender, watering slightly.

"That is the _last time_ your hair pokes my eye," she said, brandishing the ribbon like a weapon. It might not have been a blade, but Sephiroth was feeling intimidated. "I'm putting your hair up."

"Wha -?" he gave a strangled squawk, pulling back frantically.

"Hold him!" said Hermione imperiously.

Genesis was all to eager to volunteer. He grinned, looking immensely amused by the turn of events.

"It's just a hairdo, honestly you could use one," he said as Sephiroth thrashed in his arms. He dodged a kick that would probably shatter a normal person's bones and tightened his grip, almost cutting off the blood circulation in Sephiroth's arms.

"But, I -" He didn't get a chance to voice his dissent.

Hermione moved with lightning speed and within seconds, his hair was pulled up in a messy bun, because even in a ponytail it was long enough to reach her. Strands fell free around his face, which was burning red with embarrassment. He hadn't forgotten what Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had said the day before: he would look like a girl with his hair up. If Genesis's uncomfortable look, as if he was conflicted between uncontrollable laughter or being very disturbed, was anything to go on, they were absolutely correct.

" _So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating -"_

At least Lee Jordan's commentary would cheer him up.

"Jordan!" snapped Professor McGonagall, but Sephiroth wasn't fooled by her expression. She was just as outraged, but she was also nothing if not professional.

" _I mean, after that open and revolting foul -_ "

"Jordan, I'm warning you -"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker -"

Sephiroth threw a vindicated look at Genesis and Hermione. He wasn't the only one who thought Harry could have died there. They rolled their eyes in response, frighteningly in unison.

" _\- which could happen to anyone, I'm sure -_ "

He also appreciated the sheer amount of sarcasm dripping from Lee Jordan's voice.

" _\- so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession._ "

Sephiroth was just relaxing again (which wasn't likely to last long, as he tensed every time a Bludger flew by Harry's head) when Harry's broom started rebelling against him. There was a sharp jerk, Harry nearly fell sideways off his broom. Sephiroth frowned, envisioning what happened to Neville Longbottom, and wondered if it wasn't just Neville's nervousness that caused the broom to go haywire.

Then the broom lurched again and Sephiroth's heart jumped into his throat. He almost jumped off the stands right then and there - he could catch Harry from that height, he was sure of it - and Hagrid seemed to sense something was wrong and patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'm sure it's just his nerves," he said.

Sephiroth had watched Harry fly during every single one of his practices - that most definitely wasn't nerves. Harry could hardly keep hold of his own broom and Sephiroth was starting to think he had literally no control whatsoever.

"Something's wrong," said Sephiroth. "He lost control of his broom."

"What?" Genesis tore his eyes away from the thick of the game, up to where Harry's broom had carried him off. "How'd he get over there?"

"His _broom_ ," Sephiroth reiterated impatiently.

"That's what I'd think, too . . ." Hagrid frowned, watching with his binoculars. "But he can't have . . ."

The broom rolled over and Harry barely clung on - it spun again and he was flung off, hanging by a single hand as the broom continued to wildly yank him left and right.

"Whoa!" Hagrid yelled as Sephiroth nearly launched himself off the stands, grabbing the back of his robes. "What're yeh doin'?!"

"He's going to fall!" Sephiroth shouted, squirming in Hagrid's grip.

"And you could die fallin' from this height -"

"I'd get better," said Sephiroth, twisting round and trying to escape -

 _If I fall, I don't want you jumping out to save me. I'll save myself._

Sephiroth froze as the memory came back to him, startling Hagrid, who nearly dropped him. He could imagine his brother's sad, disappointed face if he were to jump out and try to save him. Yet, staying still was almost physically painful - his brother was just barely keeping hold on his rebelling broom, and Harry really would die if he fell from that height. Would Madam Hooch be able to catch him in time? Could one of the professors perform some kind of magic that would soften his fall?

How could Harry ask something like that of him? He had thought it before, and now he knew it even with more certainty, that his brother had to know Sephiroth would break that promise. If Harry's life was on the line, he was going to save him. Sephiroth would rather deal with Harry's wounded older brother pride than lose him entirely. The very thought was so terrifying it made him feel ill.

"Snape," said Genesis quickly, before he could do something very reckless. "He's got eye contact and he's muttering something."

Hermione snatched Hagrid's binoculars from the hand that wasn't occupied with Sephiroth and held them up to her eyes. She gaped in surprise.

"You're right - he's jinxing the broom, I think," she said.

"Let me _down!_ " Sephiroth protested.

"Are you gonna jump off?" asked Hagrid seriously.

Sephiroth felt his chest tighten almost painfully, but he nodded.

"I promised my brother . . . I wouldn't interfere," he said quietly. So long as Harry didn't really fall.

Hagrid's expression softened and he set Sephiroth down gently. Then he reached over and ruffled Sephiroth's hair, still held up in with Hermione's ribbon.

"Lettin' him be a big brother?"

Angeal suddenly grabbed Sephiroth's arm, pulling him into the crowd and away from Hagrid's startled inquiries.

"What the -?!"

"Come on," said Angeal worriedly. "They took off to deal with Snape, but Quirrel's muttering something, too. Didn't stick around long enough to find out, reckless, moronic -"

He cut himself off.

"Wait, so Snape or Quirrel is the reason Harry's broom is acting up?" Sephiroth exclaimed.

"Yes, where have you been?" said Angeal dryly.

 _Hanging from Hagrid's grip_ , he thought wryly.

He glanced up at the game, feeling nearly sick as Harry almost slipped for the umpteenth time - it was really lucky Harry's grip was strong - and felt raw anger when he saw Flint scoring over and over while everyone else was distracted. Angeal noticed his ire and also looked, his expression becoming curiously blank.

They ducked by side of the stand, away from everyone else, and Angeal pulled out his wand, flicking it in Flint's direction. He muttered something under his breath. Sephiroth had no idea what the magic was supposed to do, but Flint suddenly seemed very worried over something that didn't involve the game. He chose not to question Angeal at the moment, happy enough that Flint was no longer taking advantage of the situation. He could hear it later from Angeal (and learn the spell).

They arrived at the stand where Snape and Quirrel were at the same time as Hermione, having shoved through the crowd with a lot less politeness as she had. She already had her wand out, aimed at the hem of Snape's robes, and a jet of blue flames, like what she had put in the jar yesterday, jetted out. She quickly slipped away as his robes caught flame.

Sephiroth and Angeal watched in morbid fascination as it took half a minute for Snape to figure out the smell of burning came from himself. In that time, Angeal had taken his wand again and was pointing it at Quirrel - then Snape gave a shout, jumping back and batting at the flames. Quirrel was smacked in the face by Snape's flailing arm, which snapped him out of whatever he had been casting.

"Well, that worked nicely," said Angeal, pocketing his wand. "Come one."

They returned just in time to watch Harry clamber back onto his broom and make a wild dive - for a second, Sephiroth was terrified stopping Quirrel and Snape hadn't fixed the broom - before he caught a glimpse of gold and fluttering wings. Harry had spotted the Snitch again.

A heartbeat later and the Snitch disappeared. Sephiroth stared, nonplussed, as Harry seemed to choke in midair and barely managed to keep from slamming into the ground at full-speed. He collapsed onto his hands and knees, covering his mouth, and looking as though he was dry heaving. He coughed and the Snitch fell into his open palm.

"I've got the Snitch!" Harry bellowed triumphantly.

"What . . . just happened?" said Genesis. "Did he almost _swallow_ it? Does that even count?"

"Doesn't matter, he's holding it in his hand now," said Angeal.

Genesis paused to consider this, and then shrugged.

"Gryffindor won!" he shouted with Hermione, who was jumping up and down and squealing in joy.

The other Gryffindor team members descended to the ground surrounding Harry with cheers and screams of triumph. Sephiroth was halfway over the guard rail and would have launched himself off (much to the horror of Hermione and Ron, who were paying more attention to their surroundings now that the game was over) had Angeal not caught him. Unlike Hagrid's panic, he showed an incredible amount of exasperation as he pulled Sephiroth down.

"Let's join them like normal people?" he suggested, but there was really no room for debate in his tone.

Genesis peered over the edge.

"I don't know, Angeal," he said. "That way seems a lot faster than pushing through the crowd."

"For the last time," Angeal snapped, "you _are not_ jumping off the stands!"

They complained most of the way down, because Sephiroth had to contend with moving by hundreds of students, but this time there was no excuse to shove them by as he had before. Hermione might not have had super strength like Genesis, Angeal, and himself, but she had a glare that would freeze even a monster in its tracks. That got Sephiroth to wondering if there was a way to channel magic through their eyes.

Soon they were down in the pitch and Sephiroth broke away from them, darting ahead to throw himself against Harry's side with a rush of joy. Harry laughed elatedly, eyes shining brightly and face flushed. It seemed he had momentarily forgotten his brush with death with the win for Gryffindor - his first game, no less.

"Did you see - almost fell off, but - I caught the Snitch!" laughed Harry, still clinging to the small golden ball.

"Yeah, you almost fell," said Sephiroth, trying to sound upset, but the grin that refused to leave his face thwarted his efforts.

"And you kept your promise," said Harry with a smile.

Sephiroth gave him a sheepish smile, because the only reason he didn't jump in earlier was due to Ron, Hagrid, and then Angeal preventing him. He didn't even know what he would have done if they hadn't stopped him - probably something very foolish that he would likely regret.

Then Harry frowned in confusion.

"Why's your hair up?"

Sephiroth was saved from the humiliation of explaining when Hagrid came down onto the pitch with them. He directed them toward his house, away from the roaring and cheering crowds, into a more peaceful atmosphere. After calming down a little, Harry almost immediately looked utterly exhausted, and thankfully forgot about Sephiroth's new hairstyle (which was swiftly undone, much to Hermione's annoyance). He was brewed a hot cup of tea and sat down to rest for a while.

"Something happened to my broom," said Harry over his steaming cup of tea. He looked disturbed. "It really went haywire up there."

"It was Snape," said Ron, "Hermione and I saw him -"

"Sephiroth and I also saw Quirrel muttering something," interjected Angeal. "He stopped when Snape caught him in the face with his arm."

"Looked on purpose," Sephiroth added, almost absentmindedly. He hadn't noticed at the time, but thinking back, it made sense. "Quirrel was in an awkward spot for Snape to hit him."

"Rubbish to the three of yeh," said Hagrid, setting down a couple more cups of tea for the rest of them. It was getting very crowded in Hagrid's small house. "Why would either of them do somethin' like that?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged a look, and Sephiroth knew with a stab of annoyance that neither of them had heeded what Angeal said.

"I found something - well, Genesis did -"

"Don't drag me into this," grumbled Genesis, who was sipping his tea as he laid _Loveless_ out on the table to read.

"- anyway," said Harry, "He tried to get passed that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid, who had been about to fill Sephiroth's cup, dropped the teapot. It shattered on the ground, a rather mournful sound to Sephiroth's ears.

"How do you know about Fluffy?"

Sephiroth completely forgot about his cup of tea that never was.

"Fluffy?" he said, blank-faced.

"Yeah - he's mine - bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year - I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the -"

"Yes?" said Harry, leaning forward.

"Now, don't ask me anymore. That's top secret, that is."

" _Fluffy_ ," Sephiroth repeated.

"But Snape's trying to steal it," said Harry, completely missing the important point, in Sephiroth's opinion.

 _Who named a three-headed monster dog Fluffy?_ Sephiroth's eye twitched. Hagrid did, apparently.

"Rubbish," Hagrid was saying. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Hermione piped hotly.

"Did everyone forget I said Quirrel, too?" Angeal asked ambivalently.

"He named that dog _Fluffy_ ," said Sephiroth desperately to Ron, who was the only one listening. Genesis was too absorbed in his book. "The dog that almost ate us. _Fluffy_."

"Why is that important?" said Ron, raising his eyebrows.

"It was a _short-haired_ dog!" cried Sephiroth.

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Trapdoors, short-haired," he said. "You _all_ need to sort out your priorities."

"Now, listen to me, all six of yeh -"

Sephiroth went to protest he wanted _nothing_ to do with their late-night stunts, but Hagrid didn't stop talking.

"- yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel -"

"Aha!" Harry's eyes lit up. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

"Alchemist, creator of the Philosopher's Stone, long-time buddy with the Headmaster," said Genesis without looking up from _Loveless_.

Hagrid looked as though someone drenched him in ice-cold water. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at him, nonplussed.

Genesis looked up, blinking.

"What? A stone that causes immortality is pretty important," he said. "And it was on a chocolate card."

* * *

The next morning, they had Potions with Professor Snape, which delighted Sephiroth about as much as an impromptu broom race. He dragged himself out of bed, head pulsating with a lingering headache that hadn't quite gone away overnight, and found Harry already up and out of bed. Even though he had been the one flying around in a nerve-wracking first game the day before, he seemed more wired than ever.

Sephiroth was lethargic most of the morning, his appetite only half of what it usually was, and the others were starting to notice. He would have considering cutting out of breakfast early - he really wasn't that hungry, for reasons that evaded him - but the last time he did that, Madam Pomfrey had _loomed_ over him for about a half hour, lecturing him about the consequences of malnutrition. He had learned more about the human body and nutrition than he had ever wanted to and never wanted to experience that again. Suffice it to say, Sephiroth ate a healthy amount.

"He's going to be worse than ever," Ron predicted on their way down to the Dungeon.

"You think?" said Angeal.

"After Gryffindor's win yesterday?" said Ron. "Definitely. He's going to be a right nightmare."

"Is your head hurting again?" asked Hermione quietly as Ron and Angeal conversed back and forth. She seemed to know when to announce to everyone he was hurting and when not to.

"Not too much," he said, opting against telling her that his head felt like it was going to split in half. The headaches had been going on for about two weeks now, baffling him completely. He wasn't stressed enough to warrant migraines (although Harry's game did almost have him biting his nails) and he didn't get illnesses or allergies. There was no reason for him to be experiencing them at all. Perhaps that was the most nerve-wracking thing of all, not knowing why it was happening or what was causing them.

Hermione didn't look like she believed him, but chose not to pursue it. He was thankful of it.

By the time they reached Snape's classroom, the headache had mostly faded away. This was somewhat surprising, as the fumes from the potions in the classroom often made his head ache. However, before they could step in, Hermione stopped him with the expression of a person who was going to get their way or _things would happen_. Her fists were planted on her sides and she looked frighteningly like Madam Pomfrey right before a lecture.

Then she pulled out a ribbon - a very familiar one he had hoped never to see again - and Sephiroth made a dash for the classroom. He didn't make it in time.

"Your hair is a hazard!" she snapped. "You'll be leaning over potions! What if a strand fell in? And don't tell me your hair is too long to fall in, because I _know_ it's not all one length."

Sephiroth crossed his arms and looked away - he was most definitely _not_ sulking, he was _brooding_ , there was a difference.

No matter what he said, Hermione wouldn't take "No!" for an answer. Sephiroth walked into the potions classroom with his hair pulled up, wishing he had brought his scarf (the one he hadn't seen since his first week and still didn't know where it had gotten off to) to hide his face under. She had also brushed all the cat hair off his shoulders, which was entirely unnecessary. He noted despairingly that Hermione was turning into something of a mother hen.

Sephiroth didn't know what was happening, too busy suffering the feeling of not having hair swishing around his knees, until he was paired off. He had a knife in his hand and he didn't know how it got there, either. He would have liked to blame it on Hermione for disturbing his equilibrium, but it wouldn't have been fair. That, and his hair really had fallen in a couple potions since the disastrous first class. (Once the tip had turned a bright, florescent green that he had to cut off because it was, disturbingly enough, squirming as though it was alive).

He quickly set to work on the potion, hoping to make up for whatever time he was zoned out. It wasn't until he asked for some powdered shion for the sixth time, that he realized the partner he was assigned hadn't uttered a single word. He turned and nearly yelped when he found himself looking at Draco Malfoy.

Sephiroth glanced at Snape, who ignored him. Of all the students in the room, he just had to end up partnered with Malfoy - who was looking a little dazed at the moment.

"Shion?" he repeated, pointing at the fine indigo powder. "I need some of it."

Malfoy finally snapped out of whatever stupor he'd fallen in and nearly tossed the powder at Sephiroth. He didn't even have time to wonder why Malfoy had look so surprised, before the answer came out of his mouth.

"You look like a girl," he said, and he looked a little disgruntled, as if the words hadn't been as condescending as he had intended.

What he intended was neither here nor there, because this was really getting old. How many people were going to tell him that?

He slated an annoyed stare at Malfoy, which only seemed to make the situation worse. As if that wasn't bad enough, he could feel the stares of everyone else in the classroom. Sephiroth winced inwardly, mortified. Hopefully they would just forget what Malfoy said and move on with their lives. Life wasn't that nice to him, though, so there would probably be rumors about Sephiroth being a crossdresser by tomorrow morning.

"I need more shion," said Sephiroth stonily.

Malfoy silently poured him another handful.

As he was stirring the potion, he noticed Pansy Parkinson miming something to Malfoy, who watched her blankly. Either she was trying to imitate a puffer fish, or she was dry heaving. If it was the latter, Sephiroth hoped she left the classroom before getting sick. Half a minute later, Malfoy seemed to get what she was trying to say, and more power to him because Sephiroth honestly didn't care very much.

"So, ah, Crescent," said Malfoy as he chopped up some vines (which seemed to be weakly fighting back), "how's it like, having a tree frog for a brother?"

Sephiroth just stared. This might have been a lot more insulting, had Malfoy not looked a peculiar mix of embarrassed and disturbed.

"It feels like having a brother who can win a Quidditch match with a malfunctioning broom," he said dryly. His insult wars with Genesis were finally paying off.

"A point from Gryffindor for disturbing the class," said Snape in a drawl. "However, it seems you did learn some sense, putting up that ridiculous hair."

Sephiroth had a gut feeling that Snape was still sore over Madam Pomfrey blatantly refusing to allow him samples of Genesis's and his blood. He was very, very tempted to ask Snape to reward Hermione points for being the sensible one to put his hair up, but refrained. Snape was already looking for reasons to drain Gryffindor of their recently earned points without him giving excuses.

When the class finally came to an end (it never did end fast enough, though), Sephiroth scooped up a portion of the potion into a vial to hand over to Snape. Then he also had to clean up the mess left behind on the table, because Malfoy had ran off as soon as their time ran out, quickly gathering up his belongings and all but hiding behind the other Slytherins. Sephiroth was left to ponder if he looked scary with his hair up, despite everyone telling him the exact opposite.

Even after leaving the potions classroom and Sephiroth yanked his hair free of the constricting ribbon, Malfoy continued to astutely avoid him at all costs. At first he didn't mind this very much, no longer having to hear Malfoy make a snide comment at every opportunity, but then the rest of the student populous noticed, too. When people started throwing him slightly wary looks that he hadn't received since his first day at Hogwarts, it occurred to him that alienating him had been Malfoy's plan all along.

"One of these days," Harry grumbled in anger as they passed a group of staring third year girls, "I'm going to give Malfoy a bloody nose."

"He has been acting a little strange all day," said Genesis in an idle way that made Sephiroth think he might have something to do with it.

They had been dismissed from their last class of the day were free, but the freedom was somewhat staunched by the way people were staring at Sephiroth. In retaliation, Genesis, Harry, and Ron were glaring back something fierce. Angeal had been suspiciously quiet, in a way similar to how he had been shortly before he cursed Flint during the game. Sephiroth was more than a little concerned he would do something drastic if something didn't change.

He noticed a bobbing turban above the heads of the other students and tried to move out of the way - only to run into a fifth year boy, who pushed him rudely to the side. Sephiroth stumbled into Professor Quirrel, making the man give a yelp of surprise and turn white. He quickly backed away and -

Black spots dotted his vision, the world blurring and spinning around him. The ceiling seemed to do a weird little flip and suddenly Genesis and Harry were staring down at him in shock.

"O-oh, dear," Professor Quirrel was stammering, "you'd better take him to the Hospital Wing. H-H-He's looking a l-l-little peaked."

Sephiroth's head felt as though there was a riot going on inside his skull. He couldn't think straight, everything feeling very muddled and all his thought processes dissolving into a tangled mess. It was wrong - disjointed - the world was spinning again and Professor Quirrel's face was near his own, he could smell the professor's garlic that he used to ward off vampires and it made his stomach churn.

Then Quirrel pulled away and the world sharped a little, enough for him to see the ceiling again. Harry was shaking his shoulder frantically, Genesis snapped something at Professor Quirrel - there was strong distrust in his eyes - _they were glowing bright and angry, full of madness_ -

"Are you feeling better?" asked Harry, his voice seeming to suddenly appear from no where.

Sephiroth blinked, eyes burning, feeling inexplicably tired.

"What happened?"

"You ran into Quirrel and almost fainted," said Genesis. "We're taking you to Madam Pomfrey."

They were moving down a completely different corridor than the one Sephiroth remembered them being in. He also didn't remember being hauled up by Harry and Genesis, or carried away. That was extremely unsettling.

His mind finally kicked back into gear a minute later when he fully comprehended what they said. Pulling away from Harry was easier than yanking his arm free of Genesis, who was impressively stubborn, but he managed. Their expressions demanded an answer, Harry's in particular.

"I'm fine now," he started to say, but Harry swiftly cut him off.

"No way," he said. "You've been having those headaches all week, I've noticed, and it's about time Madam Pomfrey takes a look at you."

"I'm really fine now," Sephiroth insisted, throwing Genesis an appraising look. "I . . . really don't want to go to the Hospital Wing _._ "

He just barely managed to convince Harry not to force him to see Madam Pomfrey, with Genesis unhelpfully standing as the unbiased witness. As it stood, if something like that happened again, Sephiroth would be immediately shipped off to Madam Pomfrey and Harry wouldn't let him leave until whatever was wrong was cured. Sephiroth knew better than to argue he wasn't sick.

Later that night, they all sat in the Gryffindor common room, and Harry filled in Ron, Hermione, and Angeal about what happened. Angeal immediately threw Genesis a " _What were you thinking?_ " kind of look and Sephiroth knew he disapproved of him not going to the Hospital Wing. Even worse, Hermione had huffed furiously and let spill he had been suffering headaches a lot longer than a week. Sephiroth was forced to endure Harry's upset, betrayed eyes that demanded to know why he wasn't told.

One of these days, Sephiroth was going to strangle Hermione with her ribbon.

"But, wait, it happened when you ran into Quirrel?" said Ron, frowning in thought. "Maybe he really can't be trusted."

" _That's_ what I was telling you!" Genesis burst out. "But you were all hung up on Snape and wouldn't listen!"

Angeal looked like he might protest he was the one to point out that fact first, but decided against it.

"You think he might be going after the Philosopher's Stone, too?" asked Hermione.

Harry glanced at Sephiroth - who wondered why everything had to be turned into a conspiracy - and nodded.

"I don't trust him."

* * *

 **A/N: And so I attempt to formulate something of an independent plot line... Which won't actually start to really take shape for a while I think. Also, I couldn't resist Angeal sending a spell at Flint during the match. I imagined he would be quite aghast at Flint's taking advantage of the situation.**

 **To Guest: YES I love Breath of the wild! "Good game" doesn't even begin to describe it! I've never played a game so immersive before.. Seriously, I can just get lost in it. For hours. Every day. No exaggeration, I spent the first three days JUST obsessing over how awesome the graphics were. And fangirling over the stealth gear mask...and the dust clouds...and cussing out the guardians in every language I know. XD**

 **Thanks to all the favs and follows! And extra thanks again to FireEmblemLover39 and KairitrionCerulean for reminding me to update. (I'd lost my head if it wasn't attached).**

 **See you next week~**


	10. Chapter 10

10

"Now, since it's getting colder I've got a couple supplement potions in the mix, too. If you think you feel a headache again, take this - and don't forget -"

Madam Pomfrey had caught wind of Sephiroth's migraines. He suspected Hermione was the cause for this, but he couldn't prove anything, and Harry didn't seem to care very much. As it was, Sephiroth wasn't particularly broken up about it, either, especially with the headache relief potions she gave him. In hindsight, he probably should have gone to the Hospital Wing earlier, but stubbornness and irrationality had stopped him.

Now, Madam Pomfrey was berating him for just that. She was Very Unhappy, stemming from the fact he had almost fainted a couple weeks ago (which was apparently a bad sign) and even angrier that he didn't come to her immediately. Despite being a mere medic-witch, or perhaps because of it, no one wanted an irate Madam Pomfrey on their hands. She was the one who would be healing them if they were to get injured, after all, and it was best to have no grudges.

"Can't believe the nerve - lucky the cause wasn't a tumor -"

She was still going strong.

Just as he was starting to think Madam Pomfrey would keep him in the Hospital Wing until the holidays, she released him with another strict warning. Sephiroth made a mental note, as he walked out of the hospital, to never almost faint in front of people again. At least, not in front of Harry or Hermione. Genesis and Angeal could be reasoned with; his brother and Hermione, on the other hand, were prone to excessive worrying. He found it somewhat irritating, given the fact Harry knew he was strong enough to withstand an incredible amount of damage - like an out-of-control vehicle. (Long story - it was Halloween).

Sephiroth stepped out into the courtyard, the brisk, chilly air sending his breath up in small wispy clouds. He pulled his scarf closer around his face, breathing onto his fingers to warm them. Even his cold tolerance had its limits and Hogwarts during the dead of winter was one of them. His boots scuffed on the icy ground, where only hours ago feet of snow had rested. It had been shoveled out by someone. Sephiroth didn't really know who and he seriously doubted it was Filch or a student volunteer, but he would sort away with the other mysteries; such as who was capable of cooking enough food to fill even Sephiroth's stomach.

Outside the castle, on the grounds, there was feet upon feet of unhindered collected snow that had piled up in large drifts from the strong gales of wind. The lake was completely frozen over and he could see several people had transfigured the bottoms of their shoes into blades to skate on. Fred and George were causing all sorts of ruckus with the perfect, white prank material that lay around, ripe for the bewitching. Sephiroth joined in after a couple minutes of watching them.

For a whole five minutes, Sephiroth, Fred, and George ruled the courtyard with snowballs and laughter. They sent at least three students running with snow stuck down their collar, and Fred and George enchanted a snowman to chase after several Slytherin students they reportedly had a grudge against.

They all ended up getting up in trouble with Professor Snape, who was downright furious, for their antics, but as the Weasley twins delicately put it, "It was bloody worth it."

Ten points from Gryffindor for freezing Pansy Parkinson's hair into a pair of dog ears on the top of her head? Yes, he definitely agreed with their sentiments.

After a round of muffled snickering as they set up another cheery surprise in the corridor (it consisted of several rubber balls and bouncing charms), they parted ways to go to their respective classes. Sephiroth had potions, while they were stuck with Professor Quirrel and no doubt they would receive the cold shoulder. They shared grins and quiet laughter as they rounded the hallway corner anyway. Sephiroth suspected they had something new planned for Professor Quirrel.

Potions was uneventful, with Malfoy remaining as stunned and silent as ever, and Sephiroth was beginning to think Snape had them paired up like that on purpose. Perhaps he found the lame and irritating comments Malfoy spewed just as annoying as everyone else. Sephiroth didn't care very much, to be honest - Hermione was obviously still angry with him and had turned the color of her ribbon to pink.

Sephiroth _hated_ pink.

The only thing keeping him from dissolving into a storm of anger and humiliation was the fact he didn't have to go back to the Dursleys for the holidays. Harry had signed them both down to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and Ron, Angeal, Genesis, Fred, and George would be staying as well. Apparently their parents were going on a trip, he could remember something about dragons being involved. Hermione was returning home for Christmas, though, and he hoped that when the holidays ended, she'd have forgotten about him fainting.

He was envious of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley going to see dragons, though. No matter what Harry said about flying dragons and flying brooms being the same, he knew it had to be very different. Sure, the dragon would probably try to claw at him and eat him, but at least he could trust the dragon to try and kill him. A broom, on the other hand, could go spastic at the drop of a hat without any warning.

"Oi, watch out!" said Ron loudly.

Sephiroth stopped just in time to keep from running face-first into a large fir tree. He blinked at the dark green branches. The tree blinked back with beady black eyes.

For a whole three seconds, Sephiroth fought the urge to shriek and point and that _the tree was looking at him_ , until he saw the rest of Hagrid standing behind it. He immediately relaxed, flushing a little and hoped no one noticed his moment of panic.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" asked Ron nonchalantly.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Are you sure?" said Genesis, peering around the branches. "I can trim down the sides."

His hand burst into flames.

Hagrid yanked the tree away with surprising speed, apparently overcoming his obstacle. He eyed the flames warily.

"Nah, I mean it, thanks."

Angeal swatted the back of Genesis's head. Nobody looked twice, yet another thing that happened all the time that people had gotten used to.

"Don't burn the Christmas tree."

"You know, burning the Christmas tree in a tradition in some places -"

"You're not burning the Christmas tree."

" _Ripples form on the water's surface_ ," mumbled Genesis to himself.

"I highly doubt anything's going to happen to me," said Angeal flatly.

Now Sephiroth and Harry were staring in bemusement.

"He speaks _Loveless_?" asked Sephiroth.

"We've all had a lot of practice," said Ron sourly

It occurred to Sephiroth with a jolt that Christmas holidays meant a feast and he found himself, if possible, looking forward to Christmas even more. The Halloween feast had fallen somewhat flat, with the sudden arrival of a troll and being dragged off to the Hospital Wing by Snape. He would take a troll any day, too, over having to endure Snape's proposition of acquiring samples of Genesis's and his blood. Punching a troll was easy, but doing that to a professor would end with him being expelled - unfortunately.

Christmas would give them a chance to have an uninterrupted feast. Although, even if the feast was interrupted, Sephiroth thought he might just leave the chaos to the professors and eat anyway. No way was he letting another random incident get in the way of a tasty feast.

Sephiroth heard Malfoy come up behind them before he even had the chance to speak recognizing the heavy shuffling footfalls of Crabbe and Goyle. He didn't move, hoping that Malfoy would move along if no one reacted. However, he seemed to be looking for a fight this time around and wasn't daunted by Sephiroth's presence for the first time in a while.

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" said Malfoy imperiously. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be a gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Genesis, Ron, and Angeal lunged at him.

"What do you know about our family?" asked Angeal coldly, gripping the front of Malfoy's robes as Genesis's fists steamed threateningly. "At least we know humility and honor you little -"

"WEASLEY!"

Professor Snape came storming up the stairs, robes swirling around his feet and as bat-like as ever. Scowling fiercely, Angeal released Malfoy, but not before aiming a dark glare at him.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid quickly. "Malfoy was insultin' their family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape demurred. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Sephiroth _almost_ stuck his foot out as Malfoy passed. The only reason he didn't was because Snape still stood there, watching them closely, and the peculiar expression that flitted across Malfoy's face. They made eye contact for a second, Sephiroth feeling more than a little amused by the reactions he was inducing, and Malfoy just about tripped over himself getting away. Sephiroth was really going to have to get to the bottom of this, because it was downright useful having Malfoy avoid him all the time.

Ron was still red-faced and nearly spitting angry, promising sweet vengeance one day, while Angeal looked regretful he hadn't put his fist through Malfoy's face. There was a look of contemplation on Genesis's face that was nothing less than unnerving. Then he snapped his fingers, enlightenment in his eyes.

"I bet he thinks you're a crossdresser!"

Sephiroth, pretending he had suddenly gone deaf, turned and walked into the Great Hall. He was _not_ having this conversation. Except, fate wasn't so kind and Genesis was like a dog with a bone and _wouldn't let it go_.

"He's been jumpy since last month, probably because he's not _quite_ sure and it's messing with his head."

Maybe if he ignored Genesis long enough, he would give up.

Angeal hummed in agreement and Sephiroth felt what little hope he had they would switch subjects during this side of the hour crumble and die. It wasn't as though he could help the way he looked.

He tried to focus on the Christmas decorations instead, the candles suspended in glittering icy baubles. Green, red, and gold will-o'-the-wisps floated aimlessly around the ceiling like large, colorful stars against the dusky gray enchanted sky. Twelve, thirteen once Hagrid set up the fir he was hauling in, Christmas trees were set around the hall, frost sparkling on their needles. Icicles hung off their branches, along with gold and silver garland that seemed to be fidgeting when it thought no one was looking.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" asked Hagrid once he finished setting up the thirteenth tree.

Hermione, who had already been in the hall, her head bowed over a book, answered first. "Just one. And that reminds me - Harry, Ron, Genesis, Angeal, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"You didn't mention me?" said Sephiroth.

She cast him an appraising look.

"Are you really going to sit and read?" she asked wryly.

"I read," said Sephiroth defensively.

"Only what you like reading," she countered.

He didn't answer, which was answer enough in and of itself. Hermione nodded sharply and turned back to the others, whose attention had already been stolen Professor Flitwick. He was levitating bubbles of gold onto the Christmas trees to join the icicles and garland.

They all left the hall, as there wasn't any food laid out yet (that was Sephiroth's reason), and they wanted to visit the library (that was everyone else's reason). Hagrid followed closely behind them, shooting out questions.

"The library? Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

Sephiroth knew exactly what Hagrid was hoping for and that he was about to experience a crushing disappointment. He felt a little sorry for Hagrid, who must have berated himself endlessly for letting information out to a couple of first years.

"Oh, we're not working. Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel, we've been trying to find out more about him and the Philosopher's Stone."

Harry aimed a cheery smile at Hagrid.

"You wh - don't say it so loudly!" Hagrid glanced around quickly, expression full of surprise. "Listen here - I've told yeh - drop it. It's nothin' to you what's goin' on with Dumbledore and Flamel!"

"We just want to make sure something as powerful as the Philosopher's Stone is well protected," said Genesis innocently.

Sephiroth eyed him suspiciously. Genesis had never done "innocent" in his life, unless he was trying to get away with something he should not. Standing behind them, Hagrid looked like he was thinking along the same lines. He might as well give Genesis (all of them, really, but it was Genesis he should be afraid of) the answers they were looking for, before something went up in flames.

"But I just don't understand why we even have to do this," said Sephiroth in what was most definitely _not_ a whine. He didn't get an answer.

They headed to the library after parting with Hagrid and now Harry and Ron were piled up to their necks in books as they attempted to find more information on Flamel and the Stone. Hermione had left about an hour ago for the rest of the holidays, but not before she threatened to use a permanent sticking charm on the pink ribbon should something happen again, and he "forgot" to go to the Hospital. She was impressively terrifying and Sephiroth thought they needed to limit her time with Genesis from here on.

At one point, Harry almost tried to convince Madam Pince to give them a permission slip to go into the Restricted Section, but was dissuaded by Angeal. They couldn't think of a good excuse, that didn't involve the truth, as to why they needed to be allowed there. Since they didn't want to risk Madam Pince throwing them out (she was infamous for doing to students who aggravated her), they all unanimously agreed against it.

Eventually, boredom drove Sephiroth to desperation and he started picking out books to read and none of them had anything to do with alchemy or Flamel. He flipped through a book on dragons, his face propped up with his hand. Oliver Wood hadn't been exaggerating when he said they were territorial; according to the book, they would attack mercilessly if anything bigger than a rabbit stepped into their territory. Their aggression varied depending on the species, a couple actually showing potential for taming.

Sephiroth supposed it was that minuscule seed of potential that had dragon enthusiasts like Charlie Weasley running to Romania. He paused on a sketch of a dragon, one hundred foot wingspan with serrated claws and jagged teeth, and had to stop himself smiling. He was tempted to shove the book in Harry's face, because _look a dragon bigger than Fluffy, the three-headed short-haired dog, how cool!_ but remembered Harry hadn't let go of the "dragons try to kill people" thing.

He settled with pulling down half the shelf on dragons instead. It didn't look like Harry, Ron, or Genesis planned on moving anytime soon, even if Sephiroth highly doubted Genesis was actually reading anything other than _Loveless_. There was no way he could look so enthralled with a book on famous old wizards. Sephiroth was soon joined by Angeal, who, after several hours, was as enthusiastic as Sephiroth about their library visit.

This peace only lasted for another half hour before Sephiroth started getting hungry.

"Let's _go_!"

"One more book, Seph," said Harry distractedly.

"You said that two shelves ago!"

"You could go one without him, you know," said Ron, peering over the top of _Wizards and Witches of Then and Now_.

Sephiroth spluttered indignantly. Go without Harry? What was he thinking? Before he could formulate a comeback, Ron let out a sigh and set the book down.

"But he's right, I'm getting hungry, too."

They left soon after and to Sephiroth's great relief, there were no long library visits once the holidays swung into motion. With the castle empty of most of the students, it was free for them to wander around all day without receiving odd looks. Sephiroth did a lot of exploring with Fred and George, something Harry wouldn't participate in after the first secret passageway nearly collapsed on them. Food was served almost twenty-four-seven, so Sephiroth munched on food all throughout the day. He had planned on making an excursion into the Forbidden Forest, but had taken one look at the expression on Harry's face and decided not to.

On the day before Christmas Day, the Weasley twins started a giant snowball fight that escalated into a full-on battle of tactics and maneuvers. Sephiroth had teamed with Harry, Genesis, and Angeal, while Ron had ended up as Fred's and George's meat shield. Ron had complained for a long while that the teams weren't fair, even trying to negotiate Sephiroth's transfer to his team. They used the opportunity to ambush the twins and Ron and win the war.

Sephiroth thought Fred and George might have sworn to get back at him for the trickery, but it was lost under the chaos of the snowball fight. He hoped not, because Fred and George had a vicious streak that knew no bounds.

When they went to bed that night, Ron was inordinately overjoyed considering the landsliding loss he suffered only hours ago, but Sephiroth pegged it to the affects of the holidays. He had completely forgotten about another tradition of Christmas that neither Harry nor himself had ever been a part of: presents. This was mostly due to the fact he had never gotten a single Christmas present (or any other present) in his life.

Sephiroth woke later than the others on Christmas Day, nearly kicking his gifts to the floor when he went to spring out of bed. They were wrapped in varying paper, from plain brown packaging to a bright red and green one from Hermione. He stared at the gifts - which thankfully didn't stare back at him, but remained part of reality nonetheless.

"There's presents!" said Harry excitedly.

Sephiroth nodded mutely.

"We've got real presents!"

"What'd you expect, turnips?" said Ron.

Genesis was already tackling his pile of gifts.

"Sephiroth might be happy with food," he said, but he was eyeing them both critically, as though searching for something hidden away.

As Harry set to opening the package from Hagrid, Sephiroth gave his gifts a wary eye. Last time he received presents during Christmas, it had been a particularly nasty gag gift from Dudley, who filled a small box with insects he had personally dismembered. He watched in surprise as Harry unwrapped a carved wooden flute, Angeal hovering close to admire the small owl-faced detail engraved on the end. As Harry put the flute away to work on another package, Sephiroth allowed himself to start hoping.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Genesis impatiently, noticing that he was sitting there motionlessly.

Shaking himself from the daze that had settled over him, Sephiroth started on his pile of gifts as well. The packages from Hagrid were all wrapped in the same paper, but the gift was very different. Instead of a flute, it was a strange, oval-like instrument that fit in both of his hands nicely, with a small mouth piece and several holes dotted along the top. The name was hovering somewhere in the back of his head, but before he could puzzle it out, Hagrid's letter fell out of the packaging to explain everything. It was an ocarina, an instrument that, according to myth, could channel magic if the player was good enough.

He ran his fingers over the surface, polished to the point of silkiness, and could almost hear a strange, but not unwelcoming, melody emanating from the instrument. It was his first Christmas gift. He cradled it delicately, as if the ocarina would break easily, and wondered _how_. How had Hagrid known this little dream of his?

When he noticed the others watching him with varying degrees of worry and confusion, he set aside the ocarina and moved on to the next parcel. It was from the Dursleys. Sephiroth cringed, waiting until he was sure no one was looking, and then started quietly peeling away the paper. The last thing he wanted was Genesis, Angeal, or Ron to see him given something like orange peels.

His eye twitched when what resembled a bent and battered clothes hanger came free of the paper. He distantly contemplated the likelihood of them having taken one of the hangers from the cupboard. Judging from the dull sheen of rust, it seemed to be the case. They had always tolerated him a little less than Harry. While Harry at least had blood relation, Sephiroth was the stray dog they took in on a whim and begging on Harry's part.

 _The world was blurry and strange and green. Air burned his lungs with every breath, he couldn't keep his eyes open for longer than a split second._

 _People stood above him, dispassionate and cold. And a high, young voice -_

 _"He'll die if we just leave him!"_

"Is that a hanger?" came Genesis's voice, breaking through Sephiroth's memories.

Sephiroth went to shove the scrap of wire under his blankets, only to have it abruptly seized by Genesis, who looked as though he had been personally offended.

"Seriously? What kind of arse sent you a _hanger_?" he said angrily.

Sephiroth went to snatch it away, but Genesis was surprisingly fast.

"It's probably metal art or something," he said lamely.

"Did Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia send it?" asked Harry. "I've got a fifty-pence piece."

"They're warming up to you?" said Sephiroth, bemused.

"Your relatives sent this?" said Genesis furiously. "I'm going to punch his face when I see him, mark my words."

Angeal didn't make a sound of disapproval and they all knew where he stood in the situation.

However, Sephiroth knew how the Dursleys would react to something like that and was most definitely not comforted. He had tried not to think about it the entire holidays, and the school days before then, but he and Harry would have to return to Privet Drive for the summer.

"I'd wondered about your folks," said Ron awkwardly. "But they're real pieces of work, aren't they?"

"Yeah," agreed Sephiroth readily. Harry might try to keep it quiet, but he had no qualms badmouthing the Dursleys. "They're the worst."

They all stared at him.

"What?"

"U-um, nothing," said Ron. He noticed Harry reaching for another gift and flushed lightly. "I think I know who that one's from. My mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents and - she's made you a Weasley sweater."

He turned to Sephiroth and poked another parcel.

"I think she got you one, too."

Sephiroth quickly tore open the gift, feeling that warm joy that people spoke of during Christmas for the first time. He was fairly sure he was glowing with happiness. Sure enough, there was a hand-knitted green and silver patterned sweater, thick and warm, with a large box that smelled a lot like sugar and chocolate. He was instantly distracted by the box, disbelieving, because he hadn't met a single person in the entire world who would willingly give him sugar.

Ron's expression fell again.

"Oh, no," he moaned. "I told her you eat a lot . . . because you were malnourished, or whatever Madam Pomfrey said. And . . ."

Sephiroth's box was roughly double to size of Harry's.

"You probably shouldn't eat that all at once," said Harry warningly. "Sugar -"

"It was just _one_ time!"

"A whole box, bloody hell," Ron mumbled. "We're doomed."

"Wait, what happens when he has sugar again?" asked Angeal.

Harry stared at him, vaguely disturbed. Sephiroth thought the action was extremely unwarranted and exaggerated. It wasn't as though the entire house burned down, just the kitchen - and part of the living area. At this point, it was a real mystery why the Dursleys hadn't abandoned him on some dark alleyway.

They all turned to look at the box in Sephiroth's lap and he quickly scooped it up protectively. He didn't care how neurotic ( _Harry thought)_ he got after ingesting sugar, he had been given the chocolate fudge and would keep the fudge, no matter what they said.

"Just try to keep the acrobatic tricks to a minimum," said Harry.

Sephiroth blinked innocently.

"What acrobatic tricks?"

"Nothing," said Harry with a strained smile. "Don't worry about it."

They returned to unwrapping their gifts, while Sephiroth absently ate the fudge from Mrs. Weasley. Everyone relaxed when nothing catastrophic happened, making him curious about exactly what Harry told them. Hermione sent Ron a box of Every Flavor Beans, while Harry was given a large package of Chocolate Frogs. Sephiroth had several cauldron cakes and Angeal opened a package of licorice snakes. Genesis was already struggling to eat one of the many round, burning red candies he had received - his face was very red, making Sephiroth believe it was probably spicy. Mrs. Weasley sent everyone else sweaters with boxes of sweets as well, although Angeal had to wrestle Genesis and Ron into theirs.

When Harry came to his final gift, all three of the Weasley family gasped at the same time as a silky blanket-like square of cloth fell to the floor. Sephiroth leaned over to get a better look after Harry retrieved it, finding nothing unusual or spectacular about the cloth, other than its strangely fluid material.

"Is that an invisibility cloak?" said Genesis, his eyes widened. "Those are incredibly rare and valuable. Who sent it?"

"Try it on first!" urged Ron. "Just to be sure."

Genesis argued it was definitely an invisibility cloak, but even if they were already sure, they all wanted to see it in action, Sephiroth included. Harry pulled the slippery cloak around his shoulders, instantly disappearing from the neck down. Ron gave a shout and Harry ran for the mirror.

"That'll make sneaking around so much easier!" crowed Genesis.

Sephiroth's excitement for the invisibility cloak dwindled. Next thing he knew, Genesis would be asking to see the three-headed dog (he refused to call it Fluffy) or something.

"What's this?" said Angeal, grabbing a letter from off the floor. "It fell out of the cloak, Harry."

Sephiroth read over Harry's shoulder: _Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you_. Whoever wrote the letter had the same kind of loopy, fancy handwriting as Genesis. He tried to think, out of all the professors, who would have handwriting like that. And then it occurred to him the sender wasn't even a professor.

"No signature?" Genesis leaned away from their shoulders, humming thoughtfully. "That is somewhat disappointing."

Sephiroth reached over, letting his fingers slide through the fabric with a faintly wry smile. Harry had gotten a memento from his father, proof the man had once existed, right in his arms. Even if learning the secrets of his power was unappealing, Sephiroth couldn't deny he wasn't curious about his own parents. At the very least, Harry had names, and now an invisibility cloak, to go off of. He thought he should be incredibly jealous, but really, he only felt happiness for his brother.

"That wonderful," Sephiroth said quietly. "Right? This belonged to your Dad once."

"Yeah," said Harry, giving a slight smile. "Yeah, I guess -"

The dormitory door slammed open and Fred and George came trampling in, shouting and merrily inquiring as to what was taking them so long. Sephiroth noticed Harry hide the cloak and immediately understood he would rather keep it to himself before showing anyone else. Sephiroth thought he might do the same if he found something of his parents.

"Hey, look - they've got Weasley sweaters, too!"

George rolled over one of the beds to get to them sooner, inspecting Sephiroth's sweater closely with the air of a professional critic. Fred was commending Angeal for getting Genesis and Ron in their sweaters - especially noting that Genesis's was even untouched by fire, which was a feat. Genesis and Ron scowled, the latter grumbling about the color maroon, whilst Genesis complained he wanted a real leather trench coat, not another hand-knitted sweater.

"Harry's and Sephiroth's are better than ours, though," said Fred, inspecting the big H stitched onto the front. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Ron, you haven't got a letter on yours," said George pointedly. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge."

Sephiroth's eyebrows flew up and he couldn't help but laugh at their antics.

"Oh, and you're Angesis and Gengeal, of course," said Fred.

"Please, don't," said Genesis in a moan.

"What's all this noise?" came Percy Weasley's voice as he peered around the door. There was a sweater under his arm, which the twins immediately zeroed on. Sephiroth already knew what was about to happen and stifled a snicker under his hand.

Fred grabbed the sweater with lightning reflexes.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come one, we're all wearing ours, even Harry and Sephiroth got one."

"Although Sephiroth's is a little big," said George. "Think that's the size she plans on fattening him up to?"

"Probably," agreed Fred.

Sephiroth really hoped not, because the sweater was roughly double his size. He was practically swimming in it.

Moments later, Percy was flushed with anger and embarrassment, the sweater having been forced down over his head. His glasses were crooked on his nose, his arms pinned by the sweater, and Sephiroth would bet the twins did it on purpose.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," George was saying. "Christmas is a time for family."

Sephiroth would have sat there, thinking deeply about family and Christmas, except Fred came marching back a couple minutes after dragging Percy forcibly down the stairs. He didn't get the chance before the world went upside down rather suddenly.

"Come on, minion! You're coming with us," said Fred, Sephiroth tossed on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Wha - put me _down_!"

Sephiroth aimed a kick, but didn't put any real force behind it. He didn't want to hurt Fred.

"You really are a midget!" laughed Fred.

Sephiroth started thrashing and kicking him with plenty of force. He eventually managed to get free, but not before Fred and George paraded him around the common room and named him their new mascot. Sephiroth was dismayed by the good reception the remaining students gave that decision.

Later that day came the Christmas feast. If Sephiroth thought the start-of-term feast was large, the Christmas feast was colossal. He thought he might start crying tears of pure joy. Right in front of him, as if the chef (he still didn't know who really cooked and baked all the food at Hogwarts) knew exactly what he wanted, was a roast turkey. He would be able to finish off a couple of those by himself. Then there was the vegetables that Sephiroth remembered to eat, due to the thought of Madam Pomfrey. He had another eating contest with Ron, who lost soundly yet again.

Those little wizard crackers ended up putting a pair of cat ears on his head and Fred and George once again tried to parade him around as a mascot. Harry was absolutely no help, as he was too busy eating and laughing and watching the professors humiliate themselves periodically. The professors, who were supposed to keep an eye on their students, were dipping in the wine and either didn't notice or didn't care that Sephiroth was being manhandled.

"I'm not a cat and I'm not Gryffindor team's mascot!" he all but screeched as they tried to toss him up on their shoulders again. This time, he was ready for it and dodged them on every try. " _Aniki!_ "

Harry glanced up, only to burst into giggles when he saw the cat ears.

"It's a nice look, Seph."

Fred almost caught him again, he was so surprised by Harry's response.

"Where's a camera when you need one?" grumbled Genesis.

Sephiroth realized suddenly his life could have been a lot worse and stopped complaining. He solemnly hoped no one ever came to Hogwarts with a camera. After the twins finally stopped chasing him around, he noticed the white mice Harry had corralled in a large bowl.

"Looks like Shinra's getting a Christmas feast, too," said Sephiroth cheerily. The black and white cat mewled on his shoulder.

"No he's not!" said Harry, alarmed. He scooped the mice-filled bowl closer to his chest.

Sephiroth thought that if Shinra didn't eat the mice, Mrs. Norris definitely would. He didn't say that out loud, though.

For desert was flaming Christmas pudding, which was something Sephiroth had heard of for a change, but never had tried. Everyone was too busy with their wizard crackers and pudding to even worry about him having even more sugar in the same day.

He blew off the extra energy when Fred and George started another snowball fight that far outshone the last one. It was the battle of the century, spreading out of the grounds and into the castle, with all the professors far too tipsy to stop them from using magic in the corridors. Sephiroth ended up teaming with Genesis and Angeal, the three of them annihilating the opposing teams, while Fred and George loudly proclaimed their mascot had betrayed them. Sephiroth made sure to aim specifically at the twins.

The three of them made an excellent team, with Genesis always leading the first attack and Angeal following up. While the others were distracted by them (and the occasional ball of fire that Genesis "accidentally" lobbed, which melted any snow forts), Sephiroth would pelt them with as many snowballs as he could enchant. It was a very one-sided snowball fight, but they were all laughing too hard to care.

Evening fell, turning the sky dusky blue, and they finally crashed into the Gryffindor common room for the night. Sephiroth sat with everyone around the fireplace as they all worked on thawing from their long snowball fight, although Genesis was already dry and neither Angeal nor Sephiroth was bothered by the cold. Fred and George told what they claimed were Christmas stories, but Sephiroth suspected they had just taken the scariest ghost stories they knew and altered them.

Sephiroth watched Harry play his new wizard chess set against Ron. Harry blamed his complete loss on Percy's faulty suggestions - Sephiroth knew it was because Harry wasn't nearly at Ron's level when it came to strategy. Neither of them said this out loud and chose to blame it on Percy.

That night, Sephiroth fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. He suspected this would be one of the best days of his entire life. He was just drifting into the deeper, dreamless sleeps resulting from a long, hard day at play, when he was shaken back to wakefulness.

"Sephiroth."

Harry was hovering over him, invisibility cloak in one hand, the other on his shoulder.

"Wake up," he said softly.

He didn't have to say anything for Sephiroth to know that he wanted to go exploring with his father's cloak. And for all Sephiroth had complained that he didn't want to go on another late-night excursion, after such a long and enjoyable day, he couldn't say no.

Sephiroth sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes and nodded in understanding. Harry's eyes were shining with eagerness.

"Let's go!"

* * *

 **A/N: Yes I gave Sephiroth an ocarina. And it doesn't even completely have to do with my obsession of Legend of Zelda! It just so happens the plot allows for my obsession to shine.**

 **Guest: Yeah, I do have plans for that. I don't know about a magical choir and orchestra (although that's freaking hilarious XD), but it's really important. ...Um, yeah. That's all I'll say. :D**

 **Thanks for the follows, favs and reviews! Special thanks to Kairitrion Cerulean and FireEmblemLover39!**


	11. Chapter 11

11

Wandering the school at night, without the worry of being caught by a professor, was a strange and not entirely unpleasant experience.

Sephiroth and Harry slipped away from the Gryffindor tower with ease, hidden under the invisibility cloak, leaving a bewildered and unnerved Fat Lady in their wake. She was obviously unused to the portrait swinging open and then close, while it appeared to her like no one actually passed through.

The corridors were dark and the only light filtering in through the windows came from the waning gibbous moon. They nearly ran into Filch and Mrs. Norris once, ambling heedlessly down a hallway without taking care of their surroundings.

It was around then that Sephiroth realized being invisible had its drawbacks. While he was sure other people couldn't see them under the cloak, they certainly weren't soundless, and their invisibility would mean nothing if everyone could hear them from a mile away. Harry was too excited to bother trying to mask his footsteps, trudging on into random corridors without much care for stealth. The school was at their fingertips, mostly unguarded by professors, and they could explore at their leisure, so it was no wonder Harry was so eager.

Sephiroth might also be more excited if he knew where they were going. He didn't think Harry had a destination in mind and was more or less moving around the castle because he could, not because he knew where to go. There was also the fact the cloak had once belonged to his father.

Sephiroth fingered the silvery cloak, his hands bunched in the liquid-like fabric. The more he thought about it, the more he wished he had something like the cloak to know his own parents. He didn't have a single memory of them and knew absolutely nothing of them, either. Their names, who they were, what they were like, even their age. His origins were a mystery so closely entwined with his strange abilities that he had often thought about whether or not he really wanted to know. However, he did - he really, really did want to learn about his parents, if nothing else.

For all he knew, he suddenly sprouted to life behind a garbage dumpster one night and was lucky enough to be spotted by the one being in the universe who had felt any sort of compassion.

The cloak was more than a tool that offered stealth. It was a declaration, a sign that James and Lily Potter once lived on that planet, once breathed the same air. They had walked down those halls and attended the same school. The cloak was a lifeline to two very important people, who Harry knew about little more than the conversations he had with Hagrid.

However, emotional value or not, there was the fact the cloak wasn't a Point Me spell, nor did it have built-in directions to all interesting landmarks in the area. Sephiroth didn't appreciate wandering the hallways at night without an aim in mind.

"Where are we going?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

Harry's steps faltered and Sephiroth knew he had been hashing the same thing over in his head. He looked conflicted.

"Well, I was thinking about the restricted section of the library," said Harry, before adding hurriedly as Sephiroth's face fell, "but it's not really that important we learn more about Flamel. We know about the Stone, so I guess that's enough. Remember, we were only researching last time to see what kind of information Snape or Quirrel might have gotten."

Whatever the case was, Sephiroth was relieved. He didn't want to spend the night in the library, restricted section or not.

"We could visit the Pitch," said Harry after a couple seconds of contemplation. "Or the Great Hall – I've never seen the enchanted ceiling in complete darkness."

"There's also the kitchens," said Sephiroth casually. He had overheard Fred and George talking about the kitchens the week before, and was overjoyed to know the exact location. Now was a perfect opportunity to test out their information.

Except Harry wasn't hungry, as it turned out, and his _stare_ had lost none of it potency. They eventually settled on the Great Hall, as the Quidditch Pitch was outside of the school and they both agreed to let excursions outside the castle after dark wait until the weather wasn't frigid. Dull gray light from the moon just lit the corridor enough for them to see the flagged stone flooring, to avoid the uneven and treacherous areas. Now that they had several months of experience traversing the Hogwarts corridors, it was much easier to avoid the fake doors and missing steps. (Although, Sephiroth still thought that one step tried to eat his leg).

Sephiroth and Harry managed to avoid tripping over each other, even while huddled under the cloak. They were already quite accustomed to living in close quarters. Long hours have passed with the two of them huddled in the cupboard under the stairs, staring into shadows with boredom, or counting the cobwebs for the fiftieth time that day.

Despite their familiarity, the cloak seemed to have a nasty habit of slipping under their feet. Sephiroth was starting to think Harry's precious family heirloom was malicious.

They had hardly reached the entrance hall when Professor Snape came prowling around the corner, nearly ramming straight into them. Sephiroth and Harry stumbled back a couple steps, pressed against the wall, as Snape's dark eyes swept across the hall. He scanned the shadows thoroughly, mouth curved downward into a frown, as if he knew someone was going to be hiding in them tonight. Suspicion was etched into his face as he paused for half a minute in the entrance hall. Sephiroth briefly thought that someone might have told Snape about the cloak, which was possible if the one who gifted it to Harry was a professor.

Neither of them breathed as Snape passed by, his robes swishing against the cold stone floor. Sephiroth could hear their hearts beating in the dead silence, thumping as fast as frightened rabbits, (because who wanted to be caught by Snape after dark?) and thought for a terrifying moment that Snape might also be able to hear them. His arm almost twitched up to chest, as if to muffle the sound of his own heartbeat, but fear that the motion might draw the professor's attention stopped him.

Professor Snape was still furious over Gryffindors win, Sephiroth was sure of it, and he would relish the excuse to take loads of points off them for exploring the school after dark. It would also be grounds for detention and he shuddered to think of what kind of detention Snape would come up with for them. Usually he made the students scrub the cauldrons in the potions classroom, but Sephiroth wouldn't put it passed him to come up with something a little more inventive and dreadful.

"How about we skip the Great Hall?" breathed Harry after Snape had left. They were heading away from the entrance hall as fast as they could.

Sephiroth nodded emphatically. They could do it another night, when Snape wasn't so alert.

"Where to now?" asked Harry, a little discouraged. They were standing in a corridor that was close enough to the Gryffindor tower that they could sprint there in a pinch. "I'm almost thinking of going to the Restricted section anyway. I'm kind of curious about what they've got int here."

"The kitchen sounds good, too," pointed out Sephiroth. After the scare he received earlier, he was feeling hungry again. "Apparently the entrance is a portrait."

"We could follow Snape," said Harry. "He looked like he was up to something."

"Or we could go to the kitchen," Sephiroth said, before noting the look Harry was giving him. He gave a sigh. "He would hear us eventually. He's . . . very aware of his surroundings. You can tell by how he walks."

Harry looked a little confused, but didn't question him. He had lived with Sephiroth long enough to stop caring how he knew those things. He probably figured it was one of those peculiar abilities that Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal all possessed. Sephiroth was thankful for it, because it meant they didn't go chasing after Snape to see what trouble he may or may not be stirring.

Still feeling too riled up after nearly being caught by Snape, they entertained themselves by looking into the abandoned classrooms. Occasionally they would find a random book or knickknack that was forgotten there by past students. Sephiroth thought he saw one of the white mice Harry had during Christmas and figured it was only a matter of time before Mrs. Norris or Shinra finished them off. Privately, he hoped Shinra got to them first. He had forgotten to give him a Christmas feast.

Once they nearly ran into Peeves, who they managed to avoid, because the only thing worse than being caught by a professor was being caught by Peeves, as they had learned the hard way. Many students had found themselves with gum in their hair, or ink all over their notes, because they had been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time by Peeves. He was something of a disaster that could walk through walls.

When a half hour passed like this, Sephiroth started feeling a little tired and ravenously hungry. On top of that, it was getting really cold, which only increased his metabolism further. Static electricity had his hair clinging to the cloak and floating around his head, occasionally sticking to his hands and yanking somewhat painfully.

"You should use that ribbon Hermione gave you more frequently," said Harry jokingly, when he looked back to see Sephiroth wrestling with his hair. "Or get a haircut."

"No way!"

They passed a suit of armor (it saluted them as they walked by) and opened the door to another abandoned classroom. Unlike the others, the door was covered in a sheen of dust that looked like it had been recently disturbed. It hadn't missed Sephiroth's attention that the door hadn't been closed all the way, either. Whatever theory he might have come up with to explain that occurrence died swiftly as they saw what lay inside the classroom.

Placed at the far end of the room was a mirror, tall as the ceiling and startlingly wide. It was framed in gold and elegant in every sense of the word, the glassy surface of the mirror reflecting a light that had no source. The words _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_ were engraved on top of the frame. They had come across a lot of interesting items in the classrooms they had explored so far, but this definitely topped them all.

Harry pulled the cloak off, taking a cautious step toward the mirror.

"What's it doing in here?" asked Sephiroth.

"I don't kno -"

Harry's voice cut off with a strangled choke, tripping backwards and almost falling, his eyes widened in horror.

Sephiroth all but flew across the room, grabbing his brother's shoulder and pulling him away from the mirror. He must have seen something truly awful to have caused such a reaction. Harry kept looking over his shoulder, as if expecting to see something there, ignoring Sephiroth's worried inquiries.

"Harry!" he said, giving him a shake. Harry was staring at the mirror now, in stunned silence. "What's wrong? Answer me!"

Sephiroth spun around to face the mirror, almost reluctantly because he didn't want to get caught it whatever enchantment had Harry. The mirror must have been cursed, or even a forgotten prank from the twins, or -

A woman with impossibly long and thick hair, tied up with a yellow ribbon, stared at him from the mirror's surface. Her hands were clasped at her chest, as if she couldn't bear to touch him (his reflection, he reminded himself), or to ward off an attack. Joy and devastating sadness was warring in her watery eyes. She was saying something, over and over, and though he couldn't hear her voice he could read her lips easily.

Why was she so sorry?

There were others standing next to her, behind her, scattered around a void of nothingness. He didn't know who they were and when he searched his mind for an answer, anything at all, pain lanced through his skull. An idea was starting to dawn on him, though, and it was freezing inside of his stomach and capturing his lungs in ice. He couldn't breathe, there was no way it was true, but now that he looked closer it _made sense_. A bizarre mixture of hope and despair was clashing inside of him, and he was sure his expression looked as torn as that woman's at the moment.

"Mom?" came Harry's faint, broken whisper.

That was the clincher. The ice shattered and Sephiroth couldn't stop himself from _looking_ , seeing the similarities and differences. Their same incredibly long, thick hair, the shape of her eyes and the structure of her face. She looked just like Sephiroth, only with different colors.

Sephiroth didn't even realize he had parted from Harry, stumbling up to the mirror and resting his hand against the cold glass surface. She looked as though she was standing right next to him in the reflection, as if he could reach straight through the glass. All his life he had wondered, shoved thoughts of his parents away from his mind, curious and afraid of the truth, and now here was his mother. She was right in front of him, but he couldn't even touch her.

His own image was ghostly, long silver hair cascading down his shoulders and framing his pale face. He was startled by the steady stream of tears flowing from his eyes, and when he reached to touch them, they were real. Something had knotted in his chest that he hadn't even noticed a few seconds ago, but now it was painful and overwhelming.

"Mother . . ." he could hardly recognize his own voice, thick with sorrow.

He wanted to close his eyes, to stem off his tears and curl in a ball of hurt, but he couldn't stop watching them. His mother, smiling and crying and begging for forgiveness, a solemn man standing next to her who might have vaguely resembled Sephiroth, a cheerful man with spiky black hair and smiling blue eyes, as if wishing him happiness - a family he would never meet. And his own brother, standing taller and little more filled in, as though they'd never been starved of care or food, or anything.

At some point, he had fallen onto his knees, hands slipping from the glass to his rest at his sides. The floor was numbing his legs, but he couldn't bring himself to move away. Maybe, if he stayed there long enough, if he wished it enough, his family might step through the mirror. His mother might throw her arms around him in a hug, he might hear her voice for the first time. There was so much he wanted to know, to say, only seeing them in a mirror wasn't nearly enough and it was torturous. And yet he still couldn't stop watching.

The sun was just rising above the horizon when Sephiroth was jolted from his daze, Harry shaking him gently. The same hollow kind of ache that Sephritoh felt was echoed in Harry's eyes. As they left the room, hiding under the invisibility cloak, they both stole glances back at the mirror, straining to see their families.

Sephiroth felt a tug on his arm and realized he had taken a step back toward the mirror. Harry gave him a worried look.

"We can come back later," he said. "We'll have to show the others."

His eyes briefly widened, remembering Genesis, Angeal, and Ron. Would they also see their family in the mirror?

By the time they reached the common room, the others were awake and in a decidedly unhappy mood. Apparently when they had seen Harry and Sephiroth missing, they had been afraid something had happened to them. Specifically, Genesis had thought Sephiroth had another headache and passed out in a random corridor, and that Harry had gone to look for him and gotten caught by Snape or Quirrel.

"A mirror that shows your family?" said Genesis after they explained, his expression unreadable.

Sephiroth nodded distractedly. He couldn't shake the memory of his mother's face from the forefront of his mind, and nor did he want to.

Genesis snapped his fingers in front of Sephiroth's face, making him blink in surprise.

"What?"

"'What'?' said Genesis irritably. "You're acting like you left what little brain you've got in that mirror! I don't know if I want to see it if I'm going to start acting like a zombie."

"I . . . had never seen my mother's face before," said Sephiroth, avoiding Genesis's eyes.

"So? Neither have I," snapped Genesis. At his nonplussed look, he rolled his eyes. "I was adopted as a baby, so of course I have no memories of my blood parents."

"What Genesis is trying to say," said Angeal helpfully, ignoring Genesis's indignant protests, "is that he's worried because you're not eating anything."

Sephiroth looked down at his plate of food, hardly touched, a couple bites pushed around to make it seem as though he had eaten something. He couldn't eat at all, even though he could vaguely remember being very hungry before seeing the mirror. Part of him knew he should be worried, that this wasn't normal and Madam Pomfrey was going to have his head for it. But his stomach was already full of anxiousness and the urge to go the mirror and see his mother _now_ , stealing his appetite.

"At any rate, there's no way of knowing what we'll see," said Genesis. He seemed to have gotten over Angeal's unwelcome translation of his previous words. "You each saw your parents, but you've both pointed out you wanted to see them. You just happened to share something you wanted most: a family."

"I never said that," said Sephiroth quickly, his face staining pink.

"And I'm not an idiot."

"That's an opinion."

"No, that's a fact, look at my marks."

"Tests and real life intelligence are differ -"

"Am I going to have to stop you two again?" said Angeal threateningly.

Sephiroth felt a phantom throb in his forehead and rubbed it, eyeing him warily.

The conversation broke off into lighter banter as Harry broke out of his own stupor when he noticed Sephiroth wasn't eating and started hounding him to clean his plate. Genesis and Angeal seemed relieved by the sudden bout of normalcy from them, which was somewhat confusing to Sephiroth. Sure, it was a little strange that his appetite wasn't roaring, but he didn't think it warranted such concern.

"Still," Genesis was saying, unaware that Sephiroth had zoned off, "I can't believe you guys just wandered around like that. Did you even think of all the books in the Restricted section that you could have read? And I wish you'd have invited me, I wanted to see that three-headed dog."

Sephiroth thought sourly, that was half the reason they hadn't woken him up.

" _Eat_ ," said Angeal suddenly, pushing another plate toward him. "I mean it, Sephiroth. You look pale."

Sephiroth couldn't help a scowl. If he couldn't eat, he couldn't eat - plain and simple. And then he caught Madam Pomfrey's eye from across the Great Hall and decided he could spare a couple bites for himself.

That night they set out the find the mirror again, only with Angeal, Genesis, and Ron in tow. Hiding all of them under the cloak was unbelievably difficult, with Genesis constantly treading on Sephiroth's hair and Angeal stumbling into Harry's back. Ron accidentally crushed a few toes along the way and as the cold descended, he started complaining about his numbing feet. Sephiroth waspishly informed Ron that he felt no sympathy, as he had already stepped on his own feet several times.

Even besides the problem with fitting them all under the cloak, it was just plain uncomfortable being in such close proximity with the others. Sephiroth sense of smell was already extremely keen, let alone being right under Genesis's chin. He didn't smell terribly, it was just - strange.

"Hey, is that the Gray Lady?"

"Now I know why Hermione tied your hair up," huffed Ron. "It's getting everywhere."

"My hair is fine."

"It's down to your ankles! You need a haircut."

"I do _not_ -"

"Found it!" said Harry quickly, interrupting their hushed arguing. "That statue of armor - it's here! Yes!"

He rushed forward into the abandoned classroom, nearly dragging the cloak off of the rest of them. As soon as they were in the room, Sephiroth and Harry pulled off the cloak and rushed to the mirror. There was a momentary scuffle on who was stand directly in front of it, as Sephiroth found it was difficult for them to both use it at once, and he caught a glimpse of his mother's face. She was as happy, yet sorrowful, as ever.

Sephiroth distantly heard Genesis, Angeal, and Ron padding closer behind him, but didn't look away from his mother's image. The permanently upbeat man with spiky hair waved at him, drawing a smile to his face. He could already feel himself being drawn toward them, wishing once again he could just fall into that world, or that they would become real.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" asked Genesis with a frown. "I don't see anything."

"You can't see them?" said Sephiroth, blinking and tearing his eyes away from his mother. He pulled Genesis closer to the mirror, so he was positioned in front of it.

Genesis's face went through a flurry of emotions, before settling into blankness. He pulled himself away from the mirror, as if stung.

"What is it?"

When Genesis didn't answer, he reached over the give him a shake.

"What do you see?" he asked. By now, he had figured out that they all saw different things. Why Harry and Sephiroth saw their parents, while Ron saw himself as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain, he didn't know. Did Genesis see his parents, too?

"It's none of your business," snapped Genesis after they bugged him enough to respond. "The mirror is showing what we want to see most. Don't you think that's a little personal?"

"I want to see my parents," said Sephiroth. "I told you that."

"Yeah, good for you. We all want different things, you know," said Genesis evasively.

"Ron told us."

Genesis rolled his eyes.

"And Ron's wants are the height of foolishness. Who wants to be Quidditch captain more than anything?"

"Ron does, apparently," said Angeal. "Don't don't be rude to others' dreams, Genesis."

"I can be rude if I want to!"

Sephiroth blew out a sigh, closing his eyes momentarily in exasperation. It was clear they weren't going to learn what Genesis had seen in the mirror, which only made him even more curious. Knowing Genesis, it probably wasn't that his wish was anything embarrassing, rather it was something at the "height of foolishness" and he didn't want to admit it. Still, it did nothing for Sephiroth's curiosity, and he thought it was somewhat unfair that Genesis learned their dreams while his stayed a secret.

Then again, Angeal hadn't said what he saw in the mirror, either. Now that Sephiroth thought about it, he hadn't even seen Angeal look into the mirror at all. When he looked over to Angeal, he was standing apart from Harry and Ron, who were squabbling over the mirror, and kept his eyes away from the surface. He didn't know why Genesis and Angeal were so adverse to the mirror.

Sephiroth started toward it again, hoping to catch a glimpse of his mother's face and all his other family members behind her, but was startled when he was stopped by Genesis. The sharp words that had already formed in his mouth died when he saw how serious Genesis looked.

"Are you sure you're all alright?" asked Genesis. "I mean it, I think there's something wrong with this mirror. I've never seen you so fixated on something before, unless it's making sure Harry doesn't die during Quidditch practice. You've got _no_ hobbies, and then suddenly you're obsessed with this mirror."

Sephiroth bristled.

"I have hobbies!" he insisted. "I like . . . reading about dragons."

Not really, he couldn't stand the library. Genesis's flat, unimpressed expression told Sephiroth he was thinking the same thing.

"I _do_ have hobbies."

"Really?" said Genesis. "Name one thing you do on your free time that doesn't involve shadowing Harry."

"I -" Well, that wasn't really fair. He was always with Harry. "I, um . . ."

"You see? You've got a problem or something," snapped Genesis. "And the mirror's only making it worse."

"My _family's_ in there -"

"And you've got friends here!"

Sephiroth was taken aback by the force in his tone. He had never heard Genesis even talk about something like friendship, let alone so emphatically. He always knew they were friends, a warm and comfortable knowledge that he felt was safe to lean on. To hear him sound like that - Sephiroth didn't think a mirror deserved it.

"Something's coming," said Angeal quickly and he grabbed the cloak, unceremoniously bunching them together and flinging it over their heads. He ducked under after he was sure they were completely covered.

Now that they were quiet, Sephiroth could hear the padding feet of Mrs. Norris, and he wondered just when his senses had dulled so much that he hadn't heard her coming before Angeal. Out of the three of them, his senses were the most reliable, so he should have heard Mrs. Norris sooner. This bothered him so much that he didn't even realize Mrs. Norris had left until he was being pulled out of the room, still under the cloak.

"We need to go, she'll be back with Filch," said Angeal.

Sephiroth's mind had felt fuzzy since looking the mirror that first time. With a chill, he considered that Genesis's wariness towards the mirror could have merit. It could be cursed, making them lose their sense of self, the most common thing a dark object would do to the unlucky person who stumbled across it. That was one of the only halfway useful things he had learned in Quirrel's classes.

His suspicion turned into full blown paranoia the next day, when Harry arrived in the common room with a listless and distracted attitude. He hardly responded to anything Ron said, and only with faint and monosyllabic words. The most he said that day was that Ron was starting to sound like Hermione. It was times like this that Sephiroth wished she was there; she had more sense than the rest of them.

He managed to take his mind off the mirror for a short period of time, when Fred and George stomped in with arms full of snow and proceeded to dump it on their head, for apparently no good reason. Sephiroth had jumped on the chance to distract himself and teamed up with Genesis and Angeal for another one-sided snowball fight outside the castle. It might have been his imagination, but Ron seemed a little afraid of them after their win.

"You three work together really well," Fred pointed out after the fight was over and they were heading for the Great Hall. Their faces were flushed from the cold and they were all hungry.

Sephiroth threw him a questioning look.

"It kind of reminds me of you, don't you think?" said George to Fred.

Fred nodded seriously, making Sephiroth doubt how serious he actually felt.

"You all know where to be and when, without saying a thing," said Ron, nodding. His head was clearly trapped in a chess game.

"I think Genesis did most of the attacking, though," said Sephiroth. "You did pour snow on his book."

Fred and George grinned.

"Oh, we've been trying to get rid of that thing for years. It's like a cat, you know, has nine lives."

They quickly changed subjects when Genesis's attention wavered towards them and reached the Great Hall. The snowball fight seemed to have reawakened Sephiroth's appetite, as he had no problem blowing through three platefuls of food. If nothing else, it stopped Madam Pomfrey from watching over his shoulder like a hawk.

"Hey, have you thought about going to Hagrid for lessons?" asked Angeal later that evening as they sat around the fire. He was looking at the ocarina that Sephiroth kept turning over and over in his hands. "If you don't know how to play, I mean. Did you say you wanted to learn an instrument on the train? This could be a perfect opportunity."

Sephiroth was surprised that Angeal remembered that.

"I hadn't thought about it," he admitted. "Do you think Hagrid knows how to play it?"

"Why would he give you something with no way of learning how to use it?" said Genesis rhetorically. "I think it's a good idea. We could even drag Harry down to play that flute of his, maybe he'd get his mind off that mirror for awhile."

Except they didn't manage to convince Harry to leave the castle, even to visit Hagrid, and Sephiroth couldn't bring himself to leave his brother's side. He could practically see the frustration radiating off of Genesis in waves, neatly fitting with Angeal's disappointment, which actually made him feel guilty. Angeal had a way of doing that to people. Genesis kept the sparks to a minimum, showing an outstanding amount of self-control considering the extent of his irritation.

Neither of them left, though, and Sephiroth was glad for it. He couldn't help the part of him that wanted to go straight back to the mirror, just like Harry, and see his family again. He wanted to see his mother smiling at him again, to study the solemn man's face a little longer, or watch any of the others wave happily at him.

Sephiroth knew it was a lost cause that night, when he tried to stop Harry going to the mirror. He resigned himself to following Harry instead, but received a slight shock when Genesis revealed himself to be awake. He grouchily informed them that there was no way he could have slept knowing they were going back to that infernal mirror. That was how Sephiroth and Harry, plus Genesis, made their way back to the classroom with the mirror. Genesis complained the entire way, sparing no expense on the volume of his tone.

They entered the room and for a second Sephiroth's eyes were drawn the glass, as if against his will, before he realized with a jolt of horror that they weren't alone. He spun around in dismay as Harry tore off the cloak, ignoring his hissed warning, and saw not an ordinary professor, but the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself.

Albus Dumbledore was reclined comfortably on one of the desks pushed against the wall, hands folded neatly in his lap. He didn't angry, but he didn't look particularly happy, either.

"So - back again, Harry?"

Harry whirled around, looking stricken.

"I didn't see you, sir." Harry sounded as though he was choking on the words.

Sephiroth still couldn't get his vocal cords to work. The Headmaster was all but invisible despite sitting right in front of them, soundless and scentless like a ghost. For a moment Sephiroth doubted he was even human at all.

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore with a smile, which did nothing to ease Sephiroth's frayed nerves.

Dumbledore pushed himself off the desk to join Harry sitting on the floor. It was shocking enough to find the Headmaster in a random abandoned classroom, let along to see him take a seat on the ground. Sephiroth only then remembered Genesis was with them, looking over to see a similar nonplussed expression written on his face.

"So you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised," said Dumbledore lightly. He seemed utterly unconcerned with the fact three students were out of bed after curfew.

"I didn't know it was called that, sir," said Harry contritely.

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

"It shows us our deepest desires," said Genesis, breaking his silence abruptly. "Erised. Desire."

"Very good," said Dumbledore with a nod. "You're as clever as your marks would lead us to believe. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into and see himself exactly as he is."

"Because he has no desires," said Genesis quietly.

"So it shows us what we want . . . whatever we want . . ." said Harry, his voice trailing off.

"Yes and no," said Dumbledore. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You and your brother, who have never known your families, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."

"Driven mad?" said Genesis, and he sounded discomfited.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "The slightest chance that their innermost desire might be true, warring with the doubt that it was impossible. Truly enough to drive a stable man to madness, wouldn't you think?"

Genesis wouldn't meet his gaze. Sephiroth hadn't forgotten that he wouldn't tell them what he'd seen in the mirror.

"So, what we see, we'll never know if can come true?" said Genesis. "It could just be a fantasy that's impossible to really happen?"

Dumbledore nodded and maybe it was Sephiroth's imagination, but there was a flash of remorse in his eyes.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, and I ask that none of you go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you three put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Sephiroth, Genesis, and Harry wasted no time heading for the door. However, before they left, Harry paused and turned to face Dumbledore again.

"Sir - Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"

"Obviously, you've just done so," said Dumbledore with amusement. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the Mirror?"

Genesis's gaze sharpened and Sephiroth found himself listening with unabashed curiosity. What would a man as great as Albus Dumbledore see in the Mirror of Erised?

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks," said Albus Dumbledore.

Sephiroth thought he ought to have expected that response, not matter how bemused he felt. Genesis's eye twitched spasmodically and he looked as though he was forcibly keeping himself from throwing sparks.

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

Sephiroth felt a stab of pity for the Headmaster. The poor man probably had a library stashed away in his office.

When they returned to the dormitory room, as Harry lay down he let out a sudden gasp.

"I don't think he was telling the truth!"

Sephiroth and Genesis stared him.

"You don't say."

* * *

 **A/N: Enter Dumbledore, one of my favorite characters! He's the perfect example of why being Gryffindor doesn't mean being foolhardily brave. A little bad for a lot of good, and all that philosophical stuff.**

 **Guest no.1: I'm glad you liked it! I just couldn't resist making the Christmas chapter hopelessly fluffy.**

 **Guest no.2: Yeah, the phobia is problem but Sephiroth probably won't actively seek help. I'm not a psychologist or anything like that so I could be wrong, but usually people _won't_ go for help. Plus, people with monophobia aren't even necessarily terrified of being by themselves, per say. It's more of the idea that they are alone - that no one cares about them. Sephiroth knows he has friends, Harry's his family, and so he doesn't feel that fear. He can be alone and not be afraid because he has the knowledge there's people out there who love him. If he started to doubt that, it would be a whole other story and that would be very bad for his mental health. Besides for that, even if he was taken to Saint Mungo's, they wouldn't be able to do much for him... Because reasons. :D I hope that cleared it up a little, though. **

**Guest no.3: You'll find out! After four seasons and roughly fifty filler episodes. XD**

 **Thank you for all your reviews, favs and follows! You guys are freaking epic. And special thanks to Kairitrion Cerulean and FireEmblemLover39 for all your support! And reminding me to update.**


	12. Chapter 12

April Fools

When Sephiroth woke with his bed stuck to the ceiling, he knew it was going to be a bad day. Two seconds later, gravity kicked in and fell face-first to the ground, landing in a heap of silver hair and blankets, while the bed stubbornly remained glued to the ceiling. He cast a baleful eye up at it. A normal person might wonder _how,_ or even _who_ had done something like that.

Sephiroth tacked it onto the growing list of things he was going to get back at the Weasley twins for.

He stumbled to his feet, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and only briefly wondered how it was possible he managed to sleep in his bed while it was upside-down. A headache started to pulse in his temple and he decided it wasn't worth hurting himself over. He went to change out of his pajamas, but to his horror he found all of his clothing were missing. All that was left was a blue and white dress that vaguely reminded him of Alice in Wonderland. If this was prank, the twins were definitely taking it too far.

Sephiroth made his way into the common room, still in his pajamas but wrapped in a robe he had borrowed from Genesis. (Better to ask for forgiveness than permission and all of that). He entered the common room and all semblance of logic and reason fled and took a long-term vacation somewhere over the rainbow.

 _What the hell_ was Genesis wearing? Sephiroth thought there was a rule about redheads wearing too much red. Where did he get that jacket from?

Angeal appeared to have a slab of metal roughly triple his own size stuck to his back. They were all stronger than the average human being, true, but that just had to be incredibly unwieldy. Give him a couple years and it might work out, but – Sephiroth couldn't even see Angeal was there until he walked around the slab of metal. It was, apparently, a rather expensive weapon. Angeal was suspiciously eyeing any person who walked too close to him with a cup of tea.

Sephiroth thought that if it was so expensive, it shouldn't rust that easily. There was an unhinged look in Angeal's eyes that urged him to refrain from saying this out loud.

" _When the war of the beast brings about the worlds end_ –"

"No one's gonna die, Gen," said Angeal.

" _Infinite in mystery is the gift –_ "

"I'm pretty sure it's not something I'm missing, too." Half a second later, he added, "And I'm not a moron, before you go into Act III."

Sephiroth was horrified.

"An-Angeal?" he said quietly, cursing when he stammered. "What's wrong with him?"

Angeal looked at him in confusion.

"What? He's always like this – oh, did the translation spell wear off? Wait a sec."

Angeal pulled out his wand. Sephiroth decided he didn't want to know what that translation spell entailed, nor did he want anything to do with the madness surrounding them. He made a speedy tactical retreat and scurried over to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were huddled next to the fire, speaking in hushed tones. There was harried look on Hermione's face, while Ron's eyes were darted side to side. They had probably noticed how off everyone seemed to have become.

"Ah, Harry?" said Sephiroth. "There's something going on."

"Quick!" Harry whispered. He yanked Sephiroth closer into their circle. "The walls have ears."

Sephiroth's heart sank. Apparently Harry wasn't exempt from this strangeness.

" _Literally_ ," said Ron. Now that Sephiroth looked closer, he could see dark circles under Ron's eyes. "Fred and George developed this thing called Extendable Ears. They're sticking them to walls."

Hermione frowned.

"Weren't those developed in the fifth boo -"

" _Shhhh_!" Harry and Ron chorused.

"We don't refer to those kinds of things," said Ron.

Sephiroth thought he should probably put them back on track before they forgot what they had been speaking about previously. He opened his mouth, but words proved to be useless as they almost immediately fell back into the paranoid, hunched circle from before.

"Um, what are you doing?" he finally asked, fed up with beating around the bush. Sometimes to get something done, one just had to plow straight on through and stab the subject. With a sword. (Through the chest). It was therapeutic.

"We think Dumbledore's up to something," said Harry.

 _Wait, what?_

Sephiroth tugged his hair away from his ears.

"Sorry, I misheard. Could you repeat that?"

"I think Dumbledore's trying to kill me and enslave the world through the mass distribution of lemon drops."

Sephiroth blinked. That had progressed quickly.

" _What._ " He said, not asked. It was a statement. Sort of like a flat _what the hell are you saying_ with a mix of _I cannot believe what I'm hearing_. There was a dash of _are you high_ mixed in there, too.

"And I've figured out why you're fainting," said Harry.

"I've _lost consciousness_ only once," said Sephiroth stiffly. He did _not_ faint.

"Yeah, and I've figured out why," said Harry. "It's obvious when you think about it. Those weird dreams, the things you always already seem to know – you're obviously a fully grown man reborn into the body of a nine-year old."

"He's right, you know," came a significantly deeper voice from behind him. "You're older than you look."

"I am _not_ old!" said Sephiroth. "My hair is _naturally_ silver, thank you very – wait, what did you say?"

Maybe the vast amount of crazy in the air was affecting him, too.

"You're clearly a reincarnation," said Harry, growing teary-eyed. "I can only imagine how hard your life must have been. You were probably abused."

"Not really," said the voice and _oh gods, Sephiroth was hearing voices in his head_ , "I was given three square meals, top-notch tutoring, and the researchers catered to my every whim. I mean, there was a distinct lack of children my age, and I wasn't allowed outside, but there were air ducts for that and –"

A book went sailing through the air and passed through the ghostly head of a man who looked like an older version of Sephiroth.

Genessi growled out, "Shut it! People like an angsty hero with a horror-filled past!"

"They do?" said Sephiroth and Ghost Sephiroth.

"Wait, you're not speaking in _Loveless_ anymore!" said Sephiroth.

Angeal waved his wand in the air.

"Translation spell!"

"Oh."

"I want to hear how Dumbledore is going to enslave the world with lemon drops," said the older Sephiroth.

"You're the only one," said Ron.

"Yeah . . ." said Sephiroth. "No one else cares."

"And no one else cares about you," said older Sephiroth.

"What –" Sephiroth squawked, and all common sense fled him. "I – you think you're so great?! Just give me a couple years!"

"For what? A growth spurt?" said the older Sephiroth. "I was two feet taller than you at your age. You'll be a midget for the rest of your life, get over it."

"I _am not_ SHO –"

"Sephiroth, stop arguing with yourself!" said Harry. He was holding what looked like a ratty piece of parchment. "We need to follow Dumbledore!"

Sephiroth eyed the parchment with a frown.

"Wait, don't you get that in the third y—"

"Would you people _stop_ breaking the fourth wall!" said Ron frantically, looking around the room as if something was about to swoop in and bite him. "It might summon the authoress's attention! And then what? She could write any of us characters she'd not fond of out of the story line!"

"I think I'm good," said Sephiroth. Older Sephiroth nodded in concurrence.

"Me too," said Genesis.

"When did you get here?!"

Ron let out a tortured groan, saying, "That's even worse! What if she likes to torture her favorite characters like some people do?! What then? She could be a _freaking sadist!_ "

"And what if the authoress isn't even real?" said Genesis. "What's the worst that can happen?"

The universe as a whole shuddered at that question, while the other students within hearing distance through his disbelieving looks. Hogwarts (yes, as in the entire school, because magical castles have sentience—that should be perfectly obvious) just sighed, because it appeared there was nothing it could do for this particular group of idiots. They were doomed.

Harry, who was still absorbed in the map he shouldn't have yet, missed the entire exchange. He was muttering something about lemon drops. Sephiroth wondered for the whole space of three seconds when Harry had stopped being suspicious of Quirrell and Snape, and Dumbledore had taken over on his "suspicious people" radar. He stopped caring rather quickly in favor of yelling at his older, ghostly self.

There was no way in _hell_ he was going to grow up to be even more girly than his older self. Just what kind of sick person would even think something like that?

In any case, Harry ended up dragging them out of the common room to follow Dumbledore. It ended with no evidence of Dumbledore's being evil, other than the part where he said, "Today, these lemon drops . . ."

They had all leaned in to hear what he was going to say next.

" . . . tomorrow, a bowl to hold them in."

Sephiroth tripped over Genesis, who collapsed on Angeal, who balance was already off by the slab of metal on his back, and fell over. They ended up in a very interesting position on the floor, while Harry mumbled under his breath and Hermione attempted to keep hold of what was left of her sanity. Ron was making appeals to the might authoress.

That was the sight a particular redhead saw when he rounded the corner.

"Oh, hey, I found him, boss." Then he actually _saw_ what was happening a backed up. "Um, second thoughts, yo. Why don't we let SOLDIER-boy the others deal with this?"

" _Damn you Reno, help me!_ " wheezed Genesis.

"Who is Reno?" asked Sephiroth.

"A Turk!"

He blinked, before understanding dawned.

"Oh, he's from Turkey! . . . I didn't know Turkey people were redheaded . . ."

"Could you _be_ anymore of an idiot?" Genesis grumbled. Then he noticed the slippery redhead making a speedy escape. "HEY! GET BACK HERE!"

"Sorry, yo! Official Turk business, gotta run!"

"You little weasel!"

"Oi," said Ron.

Angeal coughed pointedly.

"Could you two get off now?"

"I can't," Genesis admitted sheepishly. "My coat's stuck."

"What's your excuse, Sephiroth?" asked Angeal.

Sephiroth just shrugged, lying limply over Genesis.

"I'm comfortable here."

"You—I'm suffocating under here!"

No one came to help. It was a less than productive day at Hogwarts.

* * *

 **A/N: APRIL FOOLS.**

 **...This is why you shouldn't go to bed at 4 AM and then OD on caffeine and sugar the next day. XDD**

 **Don't worry, I'll have the actual chapter twelve published tomorrow and we can all forget about this. Until next year. :D**


	13. Chapter 13

12

After they stopped seeing the mirror, everything went back to normal. At least, that's what Sephiroth told everyone else. He also told himself this, as well. Part of him thought that maybe if he repeated it enough, it would stop the strange headaches and nightmares that had started (again, in the case of the headaches), and he would no longer feel the need to visit his family. It wasn't like they were really inside that mirror, but—the itch was still there and it wasn't going away, even after the holidays ended. Most of all, he was relieved it had been moved. Somehow he thought it might drive him insane, knowing it was in the same place, just waiting for him.

He wasn't entirely sure his attempts at assuaging the others' concerns worked. Occasionally he caught Harry watching him, his forehead pinched in a worried frown. Genesis would casually try to keep a constant steam of conversation, as if to draw Sephiroth's mind off of the mirror. As the only sane member of their friends, at least in Sephiroth's opinion, Ron seemed very put off with the mirror and the affects it had on Sephiroth and Harry.

"You see," he said over their breakfast, the morning before the next term started, "Dumbledore was right. That mirror could drive you mad."

"I think it already drove them mad," grumbled Genesis irritably. He stabbed his porridge viciously.

Sephiroth suspected he was miffed they had never visited the Restricted Section of the library. He had hinted on many occasions that he was curious about the books in there, but after the incident with mirror, Sephiroth had reaffirmed to himself why he didn't like exploring after dark. Too much excitement, too much risk—it wasn't worth the uncomfortable, tight feeling in his chest that was almost like fear.

Angeal looked disgruntled over Genesis's words, but before he could scold Genesis, the doors to the Great Hall opened and Hermione walked in. There was a book tucked under her arm, as per usual, and her bag of school supplies looked weighed down as ever. He could only imagine how many more books she had managed to stuff inside of it, considering how lumpy it appeared.

"Hermione!" said Harry, eyes lighting up.

"Welcome back," said Angeal with a smile of his own. "How was your Christmas?"

"It was great, thanks for asking!" she said, and Sephiroth could tell by the way her eyes were bright that she told the truth. As soon as she learned what they had been doing over the holidays, that happiness was going to be replaced by pure aghast.

He was right, although he wasn't sure if Hermione was more upset over their breaking the rules, or the instability in their mental health—as she so delicately put it. Sephiroth always knew Hermione was smart, but he thought he might have underestimated her observational skills once again. When she inquired about how their felt mentally, her eyes had lingered on him. Did she think something was wrong with him?

 _Was_ something wrong with him?

Sephiroth dashed the thoughts from his mind, because there was no point lingering over it too long. The Muggle school counselor had told him there was a problem with his "separation anxiety," but she had been a Muggle. He wasn't sure about the difference between Muggle and wizard physiology, but she had probably misread something. Besides, of course he would be upset if he was separated from Harry. That didn't mean there was something wrong with him.

He was starting to feel defensive, he noted with annoyance. That was around when he realized the others were watching him closely.

"What?" he asked.

Hermione let out a sigh.

"I was reading up psychology during the holidays," she started and Sephiroth knew he wasn't going to like this conversation at all. "And, well, I'm not an expert, but -"

"How was homework?" asked Sephiroth in a diversionary tactic that was painfully obvious and he knew it. "We finished our holiday work early."

"You should see Madam Pomfrey," insisted Hermione, sounding on the verge of distraught. "Just to make sure. It wouldn't hurt you, and she would understand."

"Hermione, I'm _fine_ ," he said.

"Denial is the first sign," snickered Genesis.

"I'm being _serious_ ," snapped Hermione.

Only ten minutes she had been back in Hogwarts, and already she was trying to get him into the Hospital Wing. He had a feeling the rest of the school year wasn't going to improve much, either. Especially if this new interest in psychology was going to be Hermione's pet project for the year.

"What happens when you have to go home for the year?" asked Hermione, her eyes fixed on Sephiroth, who wondered just _how_ she'd narrowed it down so easily—

"Harry will be with me," he said. There was no point in telling her over and over he was perfectly fine. He really was fine, he just didn't want to argue right now. That's what he would keep telling himself.

"Harry's with you now, but what about when you can't be with him?" she pressed. "What if you're separated? What if Genesis and Angeal aren't there, and you're by yourself?"

She leaned forward over the table slightly, watching him intently.

"Can you honestly tell me you'll be fine?"

If Angeal and Genesis weren't there—Sephiroth buried the thought away. But Harry not being there as well crept up, as though his mind was launching an attack on himself. He wouldn't be with his friends over the summer, he knew that, but he would still be with Harry at the Dursleys, so it would be alright. But if they were separated, if he was all alone—he wouldn't be alone, though. He _knew_ they cared about him, he could see it in their eyes. He wasn't alone if they cared.

What if they stopped caring? Sephiroth chest tightened to point his breathing felt labored and he knew that he'd stumbled across the problem. They wouldn't stop caring about him, though, so he could stop feeling terrified now, _why was it so hard to breathe_ —

"Lay off him, Hermione," said Ron.

Hermione looked away guiltily, but there was no small amount of vindication in her expression. If she wanted proof he had issues, she had it now.

They didn't push the matter any further, which Sephiroth was grateful for, but he could tell it was still on their minds the entire day. He didn't appreciate their furtive glances, dancing around topics during conversation as if they were afraid of triggering something. They were treating him like he was suddenly broken, when everything had been just fine earlier that morning. He couldn't help feeling slightly annoyed at Hermione for this, since she was the one who brought it up in the first place.

So what, he was afraid of being alone. Everyone was allowed to have a fear, even if his could leave him curled up in a ball of fright and feeling like he was going to pass out because he suddenly couldn't breathe. That was part of being afraid, though. There as nothing strange about it and he would keep telling himself that until he believed it.

His mind was taken off the entire issue as classes started up again the following days. Exactly three days after that, there was Quidditch practices for Harry. Sephiroth had a feeling that Wood had waited those three days just so as to not seem more obsessed than he already was about Quidditch. Even so, he had seen Wood watching the skies, tapping his hands and feet restlessly during those three days, and despite his dislike for Quidditch, Sephiroth had almost been tempted to tell Wood to just begin practice sessions. It was better than seeing him all but tear out his hair with anticipation.

Classes had become something that verged on pure torture, when the professors as a whole wanted an extra two inches on all of their parchments. Sephiroth already had a difficult time stretching his parchments out before, but now he was going to have to ask _Genesis_ for help. He didn't mind asking Hermione for help—she'd huff that he should practice more, but would give him plenty of pointers—but he would bet Genesis was going to rub it in and gloat.

He had little choice, though. It was either ask Genesis for help or risk Professor McGonagall's wrath when he turned in a parchment that was two inches too short. He would rather deal with Genesis's bloated ego than have to withstand McGonagall's stink eye for even a minute, let alone an entire lecture. She would want to give him remedial lessons on writing essays. _Remedial lessons_. He would never hear the end of it.

To say Sephiroth was surprised by Genesis's lack of teasing, insulting snipes, or boasting was a major understatement. He had sort of stood there and stared at him for a good minute, before Genesis became unnerved and waspishly ordered him to _sit and listen_ , or else.

Sephiroth dropped into his seat.

"Would you wipe that look off your face!" Genesis finally snapped not even five minutes later. "Honestly, we both already know I'm superior, so it's not like I need to constantly remind you."

" _What?!_ "

"So you _are_ listening," said Genesis with all too much satisfaction. He smirked derisively. "For a second, I thought you lost attention. Again. You know, if you paid more attention in class, you would have to ask for help."

"I _do_ pay attention in class!" Sephiroth protested, and then scowled. "I hope you were joking about being superior. Did you see your last mark? Hermione beat you. Better watch yourself, or she'll surpass you in no time."

"Why you little –"

The portrait opened and Harry walked in, soaked to the bone and slathered in mud, rather conveniently cutting off their argument before it could get more intense. He looked like he was freezing, but his mouth was set in a grim line that informed Sephiroth something had happened at his practice. Last time he came back with an expression like that, the Slytherin team had attempted to sabotage their practice. If it was the Slytherins again, he might have to hire Fred and George to pull a couple pranks on them.

It wasn't well known, but they would prank a specific someone for some pocket change. They preferred to keep it as hush as possible, because if Molly Weasley found out, she would apparently be very, very angry. Sephiroth had learned from all of the Weasleys that an angry Mrs. Weasley was not something any sane person would wish to meet. Judging from the way Genesis, who wasn't shaken easily, had went a little pale, their tales weren't mere exaggeration.

"What happened?" asked Sephiroth as Harry pulled off his damp jacket and set it aside by the fire.

Harry looked bone tired, which was a common occurrence as of late. Those three days of waiting for Quidditch practice might have just driven Wood a little mad, because since then he had worked the Gryffindor team into the ground. Sephiroth wanted to tell him to lay off a little, because he didn't like seeing Harry stumble back to Gryffindor Tower covered in bruises and utterly exhausted. The only thing stopping him was that the nights of their hard practices were the only ones that Harry had a dreamless sleep. In some way, Sephiroth was a little grateful to Wood.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when he was called over by Genesis and Angeal for the fifth time. His eyes were fixed on the chess board between him and Hermione. "I need to concentrate."

Except Genesis wasn't at all understanding to Ron's winning streak and simply walked over and flipped the board, demanding his attention at once. The evening before, Genesis had lost miserably to Ron in a chess match and was still sore over it. Sephiroth agreed with Angeal that Genesis was selling himself a little short, strategic intelligence being vastly different to book smarts, but he wasn't about to tell Genesis that.

"You're lucky none of the pieces broke," said Ron darkly as he sat down, but his expression cleared when he saw Harry. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

"It's Snape," said Harry very quietly. "Today – at Quidditch practice – Wood let it slip that Snape was going to be our referee."

"Oh, that's it?" said Genesis.

"Don't play," said Hermione half a beat later, before fully comprehending what Genesis just said. "What?!"

"What do you mean 'that's it'?" said Ron, wide-eyed. "This is _Snape_. We don't know if he'll try to kill Harry again or not! And before you say Quirrel, we don't have proof of who tried to kill him last time!"

"They were both muttering last time," said Sephiroth. They all twisted round to look at him. "If Snape's the referee, he'll have to be talking about the match, not casting jinxes or curses."

"And Professor McGonagall will be watching him," added Genesis. "This will be an excellent opportunity to see if Quirrel will try something again, though."

"You're talking about using Harry as bait!" exclaimed Hermione before she could stop herself. She lowered her voice, glancing around quickly, before saying to Harry, "You really shouldn't play."

"I second that," said Sephiroth.

Genesis leveled him with an unimpressed glare.

"You just don't want him flying on a broom."

Sephiroth really didn't think the details were necessary or important. He chose to ignore Genesis's comment this time around.

"Pretend to break your leg," urged Hermione.

"Do you really think Madam Pomfrey will be fooled by that?" grumbled Genesis.

"Really break your leg," Ron threw in.

"That'll take her exactly two minutes to fix."

"Genesis is right, but either way, I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

"We could just leave a picture of Sephiroth in the doorway," said Genesis with a snigger. "Quirrel's terrified of you."

"Oh, shut up."

Ron looked frustrated.

"There's still no way of telling who was speaking the curse and who was doing the counter curse," he said, thinking aloud over a theory Angeal suggested a week ago. "If either of them was even using a counter curse. Maybe they both want Harry dead."

"I don't know about Snape," admitted Harry grudgingly, "but I don't trust Quirrel. He seems . . . harmless, I guess, but when Sephiroth passed out . . ."

Sephiroth twitched at the reminder.

"Oh! That reminds me," said Hermione.

 _Oh no,_ he thought, his heart sinking.

He was saved from whatever Hermione suddenly remembered by the timely arrival of Neville Longbottom, who fell through the portrait hole at that moment. His legs were stuck together by the Leg-Locker Curse, something they had recently learned about in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Neville's face was red from exertion and embarrassment, and he looked close to tears as everyone, barring Hermione, Sephiroth, and Angeal, in the common room burst into laughter. Sephiroth could remember the many times Dudley would try to pull something like that on him, only with shoe laces or rope—and it wasn't funny at all.

Hermione sprang into action and seconds later, Neville's legs were free. He climbed off the ground, still flushed with mortification, and stammered out his thanks to Hermione.

"Who did that?" asked Genesis after Hermione guided him to their sofas to sit with them.

"Malfoy," said Neville, and the answer almost came as a surprise to Sephiroth. He had gotten used to Malfoy being mostly silent and paralyzed during their potions class. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" said Hermione before Sephiroth, or any of the others, could get a word edgewise. "Report him!"

Neville almost looked contrite as he said, "I don't want to cause any more trouble."

"Stop making yourself a victim," said Genesis, not quite unkindly but there was no sympathy, either. "You're making it too easy for him to walk all over."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that." Neville was on the verge of tears again.

Sephiroth noticed Harry's eyes darkened slightly and wondered, remembering his frown when the Sorting Hat had been placed on his head during the Sorting Ceremony. Even though it had been months, Sephiroth hadn't forgotten and he wouldn't forget, especially if it was something that upset Harry. Looking at his expression now, Sephiroth thought he might have figured it out. He just hoped Harry knew that being clever and ambitious was no grave sin.

Harry handed a chocolate frog to Neville, who accepted it with another mumbled thanks.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry proclaimed. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

It was slight, but Neville looked a little happier after hearing those words. He held out the card that fell out of the packaging to Harry.

"Thanks, Harry . . . I think I'll go to bed. . . . D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"

Sephiroth watched his brother, starry-eyed. Only Harry would be able to cheer someone up like that.

"Would you stop with that?" snapped Genesis, waving him away as if he was contagious. "You're going to start generating sparkles or something if you keep that up."

Harry, who had turned the card over to look at the face, gave a soft _Oh_ in exclamation.

"That's where I'd read about Flamel before," he commented idly. He flipped the card around so they could see Dumbledore watching them with twinkling blue eyes. "It was on a Chocolate Frog card."

"I said that earlier," Genesis pointed out.

"I know."

Sephiroth had his first relatively dreamless sleep in ages that night, but that was entirely negated later the next morning. There was a strange kind of pressure building up in the back of his head, accompanied by a buzzing sensation that had him wondering if he should go to Madam Pomfrey. He still squirmed inwardly at the thought of willingly going to the Hospital Wing, even after months of her doting over him. _Doting_ —there was no other word for it.

It wasn't until their first class of the morning, Defense Against the Dart Arts, that it suddenly got much worse. The pressure turned into a migraine of the worst kind and Sephiroth could hardly keep his eyes up to watch whatever was happening in the class. He certainly wasn't hearing a word of what Professor Quirrel was saying, as the buzzing had turned into a distracting kind of ringing. When black spots started to dot his vision, he realized he couldn't hold off the impending Hospital Wing visit any longer.

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he heard a lighter voice whispering in the back of his subconscious, light and airy and familiar. And then he wasn't sitting in the Defense Against the Dart Arts classroom, but standing on a patch of golden grass, rolling out into a blank white sky. It reminded him of that void he had seen when he was knocked unconscious by the Whomping Willow, empty and so utterly alone.

"You're here again," came the same girl's voice. She didn't sound so ethereal this time, though. He could almost imagine she was really standing right behind him. "You're finally healing."

"Healing?" he asked, even though he didn't expect a straight answer. It was easy to just ask questions when he pretended none of this was real.

Did hearing her voice mean he had passed out again in real life?

"You're healing from a terrible wound, I'm afraid," she said, incredibly sad. Sephiroth could envision a frown on a featureless face. "We made a mistake."

"We?" he said. He wasn't surprised she didn't really answer his question. She hadn't last time, either. "What wound? I'm not injured."

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" she said, instead of making any sense. "Turn around, Sephiroth. Your world has become a little bigger and now . . ."

Sephiroth whirled around and his eyes widened slightly. He wasn't alone and there wasn't a void behind him. The golden grasses extended, blending into the white sky, and there was a small tree sapling growing. Its branches were spindly thin and judging from the needles, it was a pine. Standing behind it was a young woman with long brown hair tied back with a pink ribbon and bright green eyes. Unlike his own, they were a natural, clear green, without the florescent glow.

"You can see me," she finished with a smile.

 _I know you_ , he wanted to say, but couldn't bring himself to mouth the words. He didn't know her, he really didn't. He couldn't think of a single memory, half-forgotten or otherwise, of this girl, but that didn't banish the feeling that he should remember her.

"Who are you?" he asked instead.

Maybe it was his imagination, but she looked sad.

"No one important," she said evenly. "Do you know what this place is?"

Despite the confusion, he still had enough room inside of him to feel slightly annoyed.

"Of course not," he said.

She smiled again, nodding her head in understanding.

"This place is you," she said, which explained absolutely nothing. "Your thoughts, dreams—your hopes and desires. All of it is in here, your own sanctum."

There was that word again, 'sanctum'. Sephiroth looked over the barren golden hills, white sky, and scrawny little pine sapling. If the scenery was supposed to represent his personality, then something needed to change, and quickly – preferably before Genesis caught wind of it.

"It's not much right now," said the girl comfortingly, "but it will grow. _You_ will grow and heal.

"You're still not telling me what I'm healing from," said Sephiroth insistently. "I feel fine."

The girl looked up from the pine sapling, her fingers lingering on the fresh green needles, and raised a single eyebrow. It seemed everyone except Sephiroth himself could do that.

"Are you?" she asked, almost making him flinch back.

Was he really fine? He suffered headaches almost daily, his sleep was often interrupted by nightmares, he couldn't get the faces of his family out of his mind even after several weeks. The others almost certainly knew about his fear (just a fear, nothing new or strange) and he was having hallucinations about golden grasslands and girls with green eyes. Could that really be defined as okay?

The girl sighed, looking truly apologetic, but he could see the steely resolve in her eyes.

"You deserve the answers, they're your right," she admitted softly. "I want to tell you everything. I'm not keeping secrets out of cowardice or even spite. You're not ready to hear the answers yet, Sephiroth."

Her fingers fell away from the pine and she stood, an air of finality settling around her, and Sephiroth knew their visit was almost over. Desperation seized him and he wanted to demand those answers she spoke of, but the realization he actually wanted to know something about himself stopped his short. In that moment, he actually wanted to know the secrets of who he was, his past. He had never wanted that before.

"You're still young," said the girl gently. She smiled, reaching out as if to brush the hair back from his face, but stopped short. "Give your world time to grow."

Sephiroth didn't know why the thought suddenly occurred to him, but—

"Is something bad going to happen?" he asked.

She shook her head, her smile unwavering.

"Don't worry about anything," she said. "Don't you think it's time you return? Your brother is getting worried."

It didn't escape his notice that she never truly answered his last question, or any of his other questions. Somehow he knew, from her reaction alone (that fake smile, but how could he know it was fake?) that something bad really was going to happen.

"Sephiroth!"

He opened his eyes and was startled to find himself still in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Harry and the others were hovering around him worriedly.

"What . . .?" he mumbled, trailing off in confusion. He had been certain he passed out.

"You dazed off for a while," said Ron.

"Are you feeling alright?" asked Hermione. "Maybe you should go to the hospital."

"No, that's not necessary," he said quickly. "I'm just a little tired is all."

The rest of the day was spent avoiding the topic of Defense Against the Dart Arts, which was easier than he thought because none of them particularly enjoyed the class. Besides for the part where Professor Quirrel might have been out to kill Harry, his class was just plain boring. They eventually passed off his daze as pure boredom, something that might have even happened if he wasn't pulled into that strange world again.

Still, at least it was no longer an empty void. The golden grasses had been almost comforting, in an odd kind of way. He felt calmer and more levelheaded than he had been in a while, if ever, and that was saying something considering Harry's next match was coming up soon. Sephiroth didn't trust either of the teachers, mostly because Snape was just plain cruel and Quirrel was afraid of anything that moved. At least with Snape refereeing, he would be too preoccupied to try anything nefarious, which only left Quirrel for them to keep an eye on during the match.

The day of the Quidditch match was like a funeral procession for Hermione, Ron, and Harry. Genesis and Angeal looked entirely unconcerned, the former reading _Loveless_ while the latter seemed to have fallen deeply into thought. Genesis was even whistling merrily as they made their to the stands, making Sephiroth wonder if he was actually enjoying the tension. Sephiroth had wanted to latch onto Harry and _never let go,_ because even though he was sure he could save Harry if he fell, that wasn't enough to stop his worrying.

"Oh, Dumbledore's here," said Genesis, snapping Sephiroth out of his thoughts.

"What?" he asked, scanning the stands. Sure enough, there was the Headmaster, bright lilac robes, silver stars and all.

"Good," said Ron grimly. "That means Snape and Quirrel can't try anything."

"Snape won't be able to do anything, anyway," said Genesis irritably. "How many times do I have to explain it to you? Have you ever tried refereeing a Quidditch match and saying an incantation at the same time?"

"There is non-verbal magic."

"Yes, and that takes a great deal of concentration," said Genesis, "which Snape'll be using on the match. It's Quirrel we should be watching closely."

Angeal gave a low whistle as the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams took to the air.

"Snape looks furious," he said.

"Harry better end the match soon," said Genesis as Snape awarded Hufflepuff their first penalty. "They're going to need the Snitch to win."

A gust of wind howled by and Hermione hissed, " _Not_ again!"

Sephiroth didn't even bother fighting this time as she tied his hair up with a ribbon. He had resigned himself to the fact that with long hair, came the responsibility of not losing his temper every time someone tried to touch it.

He just didn't like having his hair up when Shinra was around, because the cat would bat at every loose wispy strand and would yank out a sizable chunk of hair in the process. A couple times, Shinra had fallen off his shoulder when his hair unexpectedly slipped free, hanging off the ground by tangling his claws in Sephiroth's hair. Genesis laughed every time, as Sephiroth wrestled his hair from the cat.

"Ouch!" said Ron suddenly, rubbing the back of his head.

Sephiroth twisted his head around to see what was going on, but stopped when Hermione tugged on his hair.

"You ruined it," she bemoaned. "I'm going to have to restart."

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there," came Malfoy's voice. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

"Broke your silence?" sniped Genesis, and Sephiroth could hear the smirk in his tone.

"Sorry, just didn't think Crescent was worth my breath," said Malfoy in return.

"Sure," drawled Genesis sarcastically. "You keep telling yourself that."

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy, sounding incredibly spiteful and amused at the same time, which was a very unpleasant combination. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, the there's the Weasleys, who've got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

"You'd fit right in," said Angeal without missing a beat. "You've got no sense of decency."

"And I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," Neville stuttered out.

Malfoy burst into laughter, followed Crabbe and Goyle, and Sephiroth gave up on standing still and spun around. He ignored Hermione's outraged cry, throwing a vicious glare at Malfoy and his cronies.

"Why are you even here?" he asked angrily. "What do you get from saying those kinds of things? You get _nothing_ and you'll continue to get nothing. You're all empty, Malfoy. You don't get amusement from this, I can tell."

"What do you kn–" Malfoy started heatedly, but was interrupted.

"Is it because you're Slytherin? That you've got to be mean to people because of your house?" Sephiroth was on a tirade and he wasn't even sure where half of the words he spoke originated. They seemed to be working though, going off Malfoy's flabbergasted expression.

"Are you going to stop moving now?" asked Hermione sourly.

"Oh, sorry," he said with a sheepish smile. He threw a look at Malfoy, who was standing there very quietly, and couldn't help but wonder where those words had come from. It was almost as if—impossibly enough—his mouth had worked on its own. As though someone else was pulling the strings— _what a nice little puppet._

"Is something wrong?" asked Hermione as he went tense.

He almost shook his head, but stopped just in time.

"No," he said.

Sephiroth couldn't see her face, but he imagined she was very unconvinced.

Finally, after half a minute of silence, Malfoy seemed to gather himself enough to reply. His face was twisted in an ugly sneer, but the way his shoulders hunched and his fists clenched were entirely defensive. Still, Sephiroth could see the way Ron went rigid that a fight was probably about to break out.

"I don't have to take advice from you," said Malfoy nastily.

"Just shut up, Malfoy," said Ron irritably, his eyes fixed on Harry.

"You shouldn't even been within breathing distance of me, disgusting half-bree –"

" _Malfoy,_ " Angeal growled and the air around him seemed to go cold. There was something exceptionally terrifying about Angeal, who was normally so even-tempered and calm, getting furious.

Perhaps it was a mercy that Genesis snapped at that moment and punched Malfoy hard enough to knock him out cold.

Genesis stared at Malfoy's unconscious body as Crabbe and Goyle ran for it.

"Oops."

"Harry saw the Snitch," said Angeal casually.

" _Come on, Harry!"_ Hermione shrieked above all the other cries and shouts of the crowd.

"What are we going to do about Malfoy?" asked Sephiroth.

Genesis nudged at Malfoy with his foot.

"I say we get outta here as fast as possible," he said.

The stands erupted into cheers and Sephiroth knew Harry had caught the Snitch. Hermione was jumping and cheering, livelier than he had ever seen her outside of a library, or around a stack of books in general. Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal quickly urged Hermione and Ron away from the stands (and Malfoy's knocked out form) to join the swarm of Gryffindors who had rushed out to congratulate Harry and the rest of the team.

"What do we do if Malfoy tells Snape?" asked Sephiroth, narrowly avoiding Lavender Brown's flailing elbow.

"Hopefully he won't remember anything," said Genesis.

"And what about Crabbe and Goyle?"

Sparks flew off Genesis's hands and he hissed through his teeth, "They'd better not say anything if they know what's good for them."

When they finally found Harry in the throng, Angeal gave Genesis another smack upside the head when he complained they didn't have the chance to see if Quirrel would try something—Harry caught the Snitch too quickly. If Angeal hadn't smacked him, Sephiroth probably would have kicked him instead. As it was, he threw glares at every available opportunity. He thought they didn't treat Harry's physical health as importantly as they should have.

They ended up separating so the Gryffindor team could change out of their uniforms and put away their brooms. Sephiroth ended up being dragged up to the common room (something about not following Harry to the changing room), where a party was already in the planning stages. Fred and George, who had somehow managed to change out of their uniforms, put away their brooms, clean up, and get to the common room _before_ the rest of them, were providing butterbeer. One of these days, Sephiroth would make them teach him their secrets.

By the time Harry showed up at the common room, the party was in full swing and Sephiroth was beginning to suspect there was more than just butterbeer being served. Not that he cared very much, as Fred and George had acquired some cakes from the kitchen and he was currently enjoying a decadent chocolate dessert. Four times Sephiroth had been forced to avoid random people attempting to make him the party mascot—apparently Fred and George had started something truly evil.

He was relieved to see Harry walk in, people tended to be afraid of him when it came to Sephiroth's safety, but his smile faltered when he saw the serious expression on Harry's face. Something big had happened and none of them were going to like it.

Ron set out across the common room (which was just as much a journey as it sounded, with the chaos going down at the moment) and regaled Harry the tale of what happened during the match, complete with Malfoy being knocked out with only one consecutive punch.

"Never mind that now –"

"What? I thought it was impressive," said Genesis.

Angeal rolled his eyes.

It was a true testament of how used to them Harry had become that he just trudged on without pausing.

"Let's find an empty room, you wait 'till you hear this . . ."

Harry wouldn't say another word until they had found an empty classroom and he was sure Peeves wasn't hiding away somewhere inside. Then he opened up and spilled everything that happened after he left the changing room.

"You _followed_ Snape into the Forbidden Forest?" said Hermione, aghast.

"Wait, so why can't I go in there?" said Sephiroth.

"Priorities!" she snapped.

"Who's talking?" said Ron.

"Aren't we getting off topic?" said Angeal pointedly.

"Snape was threatening Quirrel," said Harry quietly, even though Sephiroth had reassured him several times they were alone. "He wanted to know how to get passed Fluffy."

"So it _was_ Snape?" said Ron.

"But Hagrid was the one who put Fluffy there," said Genesis. "Why would Snape ask Quirrel?"

"Maybe he doesn't know?" suggested Harry.

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrel stands up to Snape?" said Hermione.

Harry looked conflicted.

"There's more going on than we understand," he said. "I still don't trust Quirrel, but Snape's also up to something."

Genesis clapped his hands together, making them all jump. Sephiroth aimed an irritated glare at him.

"Let's just assume everyone wants to kill Harry," he said.

At the rapidly growing alarmed looks on Hermione, Ron, and Harry's faces, Angeal sighed.

"Let's not," he said. "It's been a long day, so why don't we just relax for now? And Genesis, stop trying to terrify them."

"What? I am _not_ —"

They made their way back to the common room with the cohesion of a tornado, but the tension had eased out of Harry's body. Still, Sephiroth couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something critically important.

* * *

 **A/N: Next chapter is NORBERT!**

 **I'm honestly surprised anyone liked the April Fool's chapter... But your responses made my day! :D**

 **Lotusballz: Yeah, they're definitely going to find out Sephiroth's real age.. Eventually. However, it will be within the first year, because I cannot resist Genesis's reaction when he finds out his rival is a nine year old. XD ... As for his weapon, that's kind of up in the air right now. I'm still waffling on whether to introduce Masamune sooner or later. Let be known that I love super awesome power-ups, so his one-winged form will come, but not for a while. Probably a very long while. (And BotW is going great! It's been twenty-nine days since I bought it and I haven't taken a single day off yet! ...Probably shouldn't be so cheerful about that...)**

 **As for Seph's height, I think the only person in the world with more a short complex than me is Edward Elric. When someone says they're taller than me, I'll usually snap and say something like: WHEN I CHOP OFF YOUR LEGS YOU WON'T BE! ... I'm sane, I promise. :D**


	14. Chapter 14

13

"I am going to die."

The snort coming after the statement belayed all sense of urgency, followed by the sound of a forehead thumping against the table. The table, which was stacked full of books and homework. There was parchment covered full of notes, exactly one inch from the top to one inch from the bottom, courtesy of Hermione Granger.

"I mean it," said Sephiroth a second later, when a high pile of parchments slipped free and landed on his head, still pressed firmly against the table. He blew them away from his face without bothering to life his head up. Light from the inviting midday sun illuminated the dusty library air, giving the place a warm look that did nothing for his energy levels. He wanted to sleep—badly. "They're killing me."

There was an irritated snarl from his left, seemingly originating from a tower of books that was precariously close to tumbling over. Sephiroth resisted the urge to poke them, as the clatter of the books falling would likely have them kicked out of the library by Madam Pince. Nothing sounded more welcoming than leaving the library at the moment. A bleary, luminous blue eye peered around the corner, narrowed with short-tempered ire. That was the most Sephiroth could see of Genesis from his angle.

"Would you shut up?" snapped Genesis. "I've read the same sentence _five times_ because of your constant _whining_. I get it, you hate homework—newsflash! We _all_ hate it! Just stop complaining for thirty seconds so I can read this paragraph!"

Hermione sniffed when he claimed everyone hated homework. He shot a filthy glare in her direction, which clearly stated that he didn't particularly care what she liked right now. Out of all of them, she was the most obsessive about her homework. Unfortunately for them, she also seemed to feel responsible for their marks, because she had been trying to make herself as helpful as possible. In Hermione's eyes, there was nothing more helpful than a book full of notes and about a thousand other reference books. To Sephiroth, it sounded like a fate worse than death.

"There are three hundred sub classes of the . . ." Genesis mumbled out loud, as if that would help him read the paragraph any better.

It might have made it easier for Genesis, but now Sephiroth had lost the paragraph _he_ was on, and looking over the page—he realized he didn't recognize any of it.

"I'll never remember this," said Ron, voicing what Sephiroth was thinking.

Harry's hair looked even messier than usual, sticking up around his forehead and temples where he had run his hands through it multiple times. His head was bowed over a herbology book, which he was occasionally copying notes from onto a piece of parchment.

Genesis scratched something out on his parchment full of Defense Against the Dark Arts notes, growling, "I should just set it all on fire. _That_ will take care of the infestation."

It was saying of how ridiculous the topic was that Angeal gave a grunt of agreement.

"Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?" said Ron suddenly, and Sephiroth was relieved to have an excuse to stop staring blankly at his book.

Sephiroth angled his head toward the man in question, eyes half-lidded with boredom. His book was held in front of his face, but he let it fall when he saw what Hagrid was attempting to hide behind his back.

"That one's rubbish," he said. "Go for the one by Erik Kubelius, he has more detail on the individual species of dragons."

Hagrid looked incredibly guilty.

"Oh, er—thanks. An' what're you lot up ter? Yer not still gettin' into things you shouldn't, are yeh?"

"Actually," said Harry and just hearing his tone of voice was enough to make Sephiroth pity Hagrid, "there are a few questions about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy—"

" _Shhhh_ ," hissed Hagrid frantically. He glanced to the left and right, hurrying closer to them. He looked urgent. "Listen—come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don't go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know—"

"Then why on earth did they lock the dog behind a door that even a first-year charms spell can undo?" said Genesis waspishly, only now lifting his from the book he was reading. Before Hagrid could reply, he said, "Anyway, I have three parchments to fill with nonsense we won't even use, so nice talking to you."

Sephiroth thought he was just sore over the fact that Hermione had, yet again, gotten higher marks in her schoolwork than him. It was a little unfair to take it out on Hagrid, though.

"See you later, then," said Harry with a hint of apology in his voice.

Hagrid, despite Genesis's rudeness, almost looked grateful for the excuse to leave. He all but crab-walked his way out of the library, clearly hiding something behind his back.

"Wonder why he's being so secretive," said Sephiroth thoughtfully. "It's not as though the entire school doesn't know he's interested in dragons."

Harry shrugged.

"Dunno," he said. "Maybe there's a dragon guarding the Stone?"

"That's impossible—it's against our laws," said Ron, shaking his head. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlock's Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden—anyways, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

That settled it, Sephiroth was going to be the first person to tame a dragon. His expression must have given himself away, because Harry sighed resignedly.

"Are there any dragons that would be suitable for guarding something inside Hogwarts?" asked Sephiroth. "It wouldn't be easy to hide a dragon."

"It's not easy to hide a giant three-headed dog," Harry pointed out.

"Probably not," said Ron. "Charlie's told us loads about dragons, and even the smallest is bigger than Fluffy. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"He could be just reading up on them," Angeal suggested mildly.

"And he's just now reading books that've probably been there for years?" said Harry, doubtful.

"People do reread books, you know," said Genesis, having given up on his homework and looking much happier for it.

"Yeah, but who would want to reread Laci Nogao's books?" asked Sephiroth, remembering the author of the book Hagrid had almost taken. "They're clearly written by a hater of dragons."

"So what on earth is Hagrid up to?" exclaimed Hermione, earning them a _look_ from Madam Pince. Hermione was the only one who was the least bit contrite.

They were silent for a round of ten seconds, before Genesis sighed and closed his book. As if the motion was a catalyst, Sephiroth and the rest followed suit and ended their daily ritualistic suffering. They headed down to the Great Hall for a bite to eat before visiting Hagrid. Along the way, they ran into Malfoy, who had gone back to his silence and Sephiroth was glad for it, even if it was confusing as ever. Only this time, he was blatantly avoiding Sephiroth on top of saying nothing.

He blamed it on Genesis knocking Malfoy unconscious during the Quidditch match. Since that day, the Slytherins had been a little hesitant to pick on any of the Gryffindors, because they knew exactly what Genesis could do to them if they were caught. Of course, that only extended to the lower years, because the older students took this as a challenge and Sephiroth was expecting a fight to break out any day. He sincerely felt bad for the poor upperclassman that tried to curse Genesis—it would not end well.

They left for Hagrid's house an hour after leaving the library, as the sun was just past its zenith in the sky. Winter had long since given way to spring and the temperature was starting to crawl up. After the long, gray months, it was a welcome change, although Sephiroth couldn't bring himself to miss heat so much that he would want a fire burning in Hagrid's house. Despite those wishes, Hagrid continued to keep his fireplace blazing—while it was nearly summer outside.

Sephiroth imagined this was what it felt like to be roasted in an oven. He didn't like it.

Completely opposite to everyone else, Genesis looked to be right at home in the overwhelming warmth of the place. Sephiroth figured that his ability to manipulate fire so freely came with a high level of heat resistance. Either that, or Genesis had a poker face that would fool even the professionals.

"So—yeh wanted to ask somethin'?" said Hagrid as he set out mugs of tea for them.

"Yes," said Harry bluntly. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy."

Sephiroth commended his brother for asking the hard questions right away.

"O' course I can't," said Hagrid with a frown. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts—I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"We never told you about how we explo—"

Harry stomped on Sephroth's foot. It didn't really hurt, but Sephiroth got the message.

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione in a tone of voice that had Genesis and Angeal staring at her in utter bewilderment. Hagrid looked flattered, though. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really. We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

"What is she," hissed Genesis, wide-eyed and faintly alarmed, "a Turk?"

"What's a Turk?" whispered Sephiroth, having moved as far from Hermione as possible. That meant sitting next to Genesis.

"I don't know, but for some reason it fits," he replied.

"That makes no sense," said Angeal. "And yet it does."

Creepy as Hermione's performance was or not, it worked. Hagrid was already spilling a couple more secrets he probably wasn't supposed to tell the students with a frightening amount of gusto. Sephiroth felt vaguely horrified—no one's secrets were safe around her.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that . . . let's see . . . he borrowed Fluffy from me . . . then some o' the teachers did enchantments . . . Professor Sprout—Professor Flitwick—Professor McGonagall—Professor Quirrell—an' Dumbledore himself did somethin' o' course." Hagrid paused, doing another count on his fingers. "Hang on, I've forgotten someone."

Hermione smiled encouragingly—Genesis, Angeal, and Sephiroth edged even farther away from her.

"Oh yeah," said Hagrid, face lighting with remembrance. "Professor Snape."

"Snape?" said Harry.

"Yeah—yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

Sephiroth could already predict where this conversation was going and he didn't care for it. Sometimes he felt like they went in circles. He aimed a cursory glance around the house, looking for something—anything, really—to distract the conversation with, and went for the most obvious. He had noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione wiping sweat off their foreheads anyway.

"Can we open a window?" said Sephiroth, changing the topic with all the tact of a lumbering elephant. "It's very hot in here."

"Can't, Sephiroth, sorry," came the reply, and Hagrid stole a look at the fireplace.

That was around when Genesis gave a shout and jumped to his feet, darting to the fireplace. Angeal jumped in surprise, following him and looking a more than a little nonplussed. Sephiroth couldn't see what was in the fireplace, due the fact they were crowding around it, and unceremoniously elbowed Genesis out of the way.

"Where did you get it?!" gasped Genesis. "No, forget that— _how_ did you get it?"

"Hagrid," said Angeal carefully, "you haven't forgotten your house is made of wood, right? Wood burns."

"What is it?" Sephiroth burst out impatiently.

"A dragon egg," said Ron in awe when he crawled over by the fire with them.

"Seriously?!" Sephiroth exclaimed. "That's brilliant!"

"No it's not!" cried Hermione. "Hagrid, you heard Angeal, your house is wooden!"

Sephiroth thought Hermione needed to sort what she thought was important, as usual. This was a _dragon_ , some allowances could be made for it. Such as risking Hagrid's house burning to the ground. The rational part of Sephiroth's mind told him that he was the one who needed to take a step back and take a look at his own priorities. He swiftly and easily silenced that little voice.

"How long does it take to grow?" he asked.

"What are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" asked Hermione.

"What's its breed?"

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'. Got this outta the library," Hagrid held up the book Sephiroth had seen him sneaking out of the library, " _Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit_. It's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood—"

"Is that a dragon breeding book or an occult ritual handbook?" interrupted Genesis. "Chicken blood? What's next, the full moon?"

"Pentagons?" suggested Angeal.

"You killed chickens?" said Sephiroth.

" _That's_ what you're worried about? What do you think you _eat?_ " said Genesis, annoyed.

"Well, I don't think about that when I'm eating them!" he protested.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Um, guys?" he said. "I know you're excited about the dragon—I am, too—but Hagrid was talking."

They fell silent, properly chastised.

"Er—well, anyway—how ter recognize diff'rent eggs—what I got there's a Norwgian Ridgeback. They're rare, them," said Hagrid, looking very pleased with himself. "I won it off a game las' night. Got into a game 'o cards with a stranger—think he was glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"I wonder why," said Hermione, dry enough to dehydrate a desert.

As they were heading back to the castle, Genesis warned them against talking about the dragon in public areas. Having a dragon was very, very illegal and if Hagrid was found out, then things would get ugly. There were any number of cruel students in the school who seemed to dislike Hagrid for no good reason—mostly Slytherins and a couple of the stuffier Ravenclaws—who wouldn't hesitate to report him.

"I can only threaten so many of them," Genesis admitted as they neared Gryffindor Tower. A passing ghost threw him a wary look. "And Malfoy doesn't seem to learn his lesson. Ever."

"To be fair," said Sephiroth, "I think he _forgot_ the lesson."

"I cannot _believe_ you actually gave him a concussion," grumbled Hermione, who had been too busy cheering Harry on to notice the very short scuffle during the Quidditch match.

The dragon egg weighed heavily on Sephiroth's mind as the days passed, making it even harder for him to focus his energy on finishing the piles of homework he had been assigned. Professor McGonagall had thrown him a meaningful look during his last Transfiguration class. She knew that he was slacking off and was not pleased. Sephiroth didn't know what she expected, since he was used to dealing with a human-level standard of homework.

"Use these to organize your notes, and this will help regulate your studying hours, this is for your rough drafts—" Hermione handed out fully developed study plans with the seriousness of a war general. "Follow these and you'll pass."

"Sounds like an insurance commercial," mumbled Harry under his breath.

"A what?" asked Ron.

"Never mind," said Harry quickly.

"Do we really need to color code our notes?" asked Sephiroth wearily on morning over breakfast. He hadn't slept much the night before, and for once it wasn't because of nightmares. "Besides, as long as we pass the exams, that's all that matters."

"Exactly," said Ron.

"And that's exactly the kind of giving-up attitude that will get you no where in life!" said Hermione hotly.

"Don't talk to me about life," growled Genesis.

Before Hermione could argue further, Hedwig dropped down with a note rolled up in her talons. Hagrid's familiar messy scrawl could be seen, and as soon as Harry read it, his face lit up with excitement. He threw Hedwig a piece of bacon, and then leaned over the table to explain in a hushed voice what the note had said.

Hermione took one look at their expressions after hearing the dragon was hatching and scowled.

"We can't skip Herbology," she said stubbornly.

" _Hermione_ ," said Sephiroth emphatically. "We _can't_ miss this!"

She almost looked a little sympathetic toward him, but classes won out.

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone—"

"Too loud," said Genesis casually, "and as much as I hate to admit it, she's right. If we skip class, it'll be really obvious that something it going on. We don't want to draw any attention to Hagrid."

"Malfoy's listening," whispered Harry.

Sephiroth stopped himself from twisting around to look. Nothing would have been more telling, short of pointing at Malfoy and then quickly huddling together. If Malfoy was even the slightest bit suspicious of them, they were going to have to watch their backs.

Apparently he hadn't taken the lesson from Crabbe and Goyle's abject terror of Genesis since the last game.

Usually, paying attention during Herbology class wasn't as difficult as the other classes. This time, Sephiroth knew a dragon was about to hatch and he might miss it because of that very class. Suffice it to say, his mind was not on a single word Professor Sprout spoke, and he was definitely going to need to take a look at the notes Hermione was taking. He just hoped she didn't decided to make a point and refuse them looking at her notes. When the class finally ended, they made a bee-line for the exit of the greenhouse, leaving Professor Sprout somewhat bemused.

Hagrid opened the door as soon as they knocked and they nearly shoved inside, tripping over each other to get a look at the dragon.

"It's nearly out," said Hagrid, just barely containing his excitement.

Sephiroth leaned up close to the egg, the black shell fractured and pulsing upward as the baby dragon within struggled to hatch. He was only vaguely aware of Genesis pushing him aside to get a better view, willing the dragon to hatch faster so he could see it. All he had to go on for mental images of dragons were the descriptions and sketches in the books he had read, which didn't even begin to come close to seeing a dragon in person.

He didn't have to strain his ears much to hear a tiny, frantic heartbeat—scales pushing against the membrane, and a thrumming, clicking sound that reminded him a little of an engine. It was as if the dragon was trying to fin its footing inside the egg and the moment it did, Sephiroth knew it would burst out.

Sure enough, seconds later a talon sliced through the membrane and shell, splitting the egg into pieces around a small and wrinkly dark lump. It was all spines and wings, bony edges sticking out at awkward angles as it flopped on the eggshells, a piece stuck to its foot. Two bright orange eyes bulged from its head, similar to a typical lizard, and there was a ring of horns jutting from its head like a crown.

It was the most beautiful thing Sephiroth had ever seen.

"It looks like a dry prune," said Genesis flatly.

The dragon let out a sneeze, sending out sparks from its snout.

"He's _beautiful_ ," snapped Sephiroth to Genesis. He turned his attention back to the baby dragon. "Just ignore him."

"You're talking to it?" exclaimed Genesis.

Hagrid reached out to touch the dragon, only to snatch his hand back with a chuckle when it tried to take a chunk out of his skin.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!"

Sephiroth lifted his hand—and Harry grabbed his wrist with an incredulous expression, as if he couldn't believe Sephiroth was willing to risk his limbs to pet a dragon.

" _Don't_ ," he said. "You heal fast, but I don't think you can regenerate fingers."

Sephiroth almost stated Madam Pomfrey could just stick his finger back on, but stopped when he noticed Hagrid suddenly blanch.

"What's wrong?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains—it's a kid—he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Sephiroth flew away from the table and out the door. He would almost bet he knew who the perpetrator was, and sure enough—it was Malfoy. There was no way, not even in a million years, Sephiroth was going to let Malfoy spoil the fact he had just seen a dragon for the first time. Nor was Malfoy going to threaten the dragon's continued existence at Hogwarts.

He could run much faster than the average human child, that much was for certain. So, Malfoy didn't really stand a chance. Sephiroth had cleared the distance between Hagrid's house and his retreating back in three seconds flat, and it took much less time to jump him. Malfoy turned around at the wrong time to look behind, and let out a shriek as he went down. Sephiroth figured his expression must have been pretty terrifying, working in his favor as he rather easily stopped Malfoy from squirming away.

"Do not tell _anyone_ ," said Sephiroth, pinning Malfoy's shoulders to the ground and sitting on his torso. "I want to keep the dragon. If you mess that up, so help me, _you will regret it_."

Malfoy's mouth opened and closed, resembling a fish out of water. He managed a nod.

"I mean it, so don't go blabbing. I want to be the first person to tame a dragon," Sephiroth insisted. "I'll even give you a ride. Just don't tell anyone?"

Genesis and Angeal caught up at that moment. Genesis took one look at the scene in front of him and grinned fiendishly, lighting his hand on fire. His glove melted away, leaving his bare hand wreathed in flames.

"So it _was_ you," said Angeal, very coldly. "You followed us."

Malfoy seemed to be hyperventilating.

The fire died away and Genesis sighed.

"Sephiroth, get off of him. You're not helping."

"Huh? Well, okay . . ." Sephiroth leaned back—and as soon as Malfoy tried to scuttle backwards, he was shoved back down. "But what he tries to run away?"

"We're all stronger and faster than him," said Angeal, throwing Malfoy a look that was almost pitying.

It was only after Sephiroth climbed off of him that Malfoy seemed to be able to breathe correctly. He was white-faced and looked terrified.

"I won't tell anyone," he said. "So don't hurt me!"

Genesis rolled his eyes.

"Wimp."

Angeal swatted the back of his head.

"Maybe if I knock him out again, the concussion will wipe his memory?" said Genesis ambivalently.

"Believe it or not," said Angeal, "violence isn't the answer to everything."

"That was _you?_ " said Malfoy, outraged. "No wonder Crabbe and Goyle are being so annoying!"

"Yeah, but violence is pretty convenient," Genesis replied.

Malfoy looked furious at being ignored. Sephiroth thought he got over his fear pretty quickly for being Slytherin and having a reputation of holding self preservation so highly.

"Can I leave?" he asked.

"Just go," sighed Angeal.

"Don't forget that if someone comes looking for that dragon, I'll be after your _head_ ," said Genesis, giving a very convincing deranged grin.

Malfoy looked cowed for a whole five seconds. Then he took five paces up the hill, turned and yelled, "You promised to let me ride the bloody dragon, Crescent, don't forget!" and took off like the hounds of hell were biting at his ankles. For a moment, Sephiroth thought Genesis might actually chase him up the hill.

"That little shi—"

"Language."

" _Really_ , Angeal?!"

They returned the Hagrid's house to deliver the good news: they wouldn't have to worry about Malfoy telling anyone about the dragon, ever. Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't look the slightest bit convinced that their secret was safe, but unless Malfoy wanted all of them out for his blood, he would keep it to himself. Sephiroth spent the rest of the evening at Hagrid's house attempting to pet the dragon without being snapped at, or scalded with fire, or clawed with the dragon's talons. Harry was too busy stressing himself out to bother telling Sephiroth to stop.

When they returned the next day, Sephiroth couldn't help but notice how the dragon had gone from the size of his forearm, to nearly half the length of his body. It was eating noisily out of a bucket of brandy and chicken blood, which continued to be disturbing even after he had told himself that he was over it. It also still seemed to be out to eat Sephiroth's hand.

After a week had passed, the dragon was roughly triple the size it was at birth. It took up nearly all the free room in Hagrid's house, forcing them to shove themselves into corners and hold their breath and plumes of smoke came from its nostrils. The dragon's protruding orange eyes had an excellent range of sight, so there was no hiding things from it, either. Sephiroth was starting to see why people thought dragons were untameable.

"Hagrid," said Genesis one day when the dragon finally crossed the line and almost singed _Loveless_ , "you're going to have to move it somewhere else. One of these days it's going to outgrow your house, you know that, right? You might want to think about relocating it _before_ it busts through your walls."

It would be kind of a hard to keep a dragon secret if it burst out of Hagrid's house. The dragon really did need to be moved to a better area. Hermione wanted Hagrid to get rid of it in general.

"It can't outstretch its wings," Angeal pressed, "that's got to be uncomfortable. If it's not comfortable, that will make it violent. You need to move it."

"He needs to be kept warm at all times," protested Hagrid.

"Then build him a furnace in the Forbidden Forest!" Genesis rapped his knuckles on hard, black scales and almost lost his hand as a consequence. "It's hardly a breakable item, Hagrid."

"Just let him go," said Harry.

Sephiroth shook his head.

"No, he really is too young to be on his own," he said. "Tough or not, he's still a baby and can't fend for himself."

Genesis through him a sour look.

"You just don't want to let him go."

One day, Genesis might stop pointing out useless details. The dragon sent a puff of smoke curling into the air, which threw Hermione into a fit of coughing. Sephiroth resisted the urge to open a window. He knew that keeping the dragon out of sight was important, but—it was painfully stifling inside, especially with the days getting warmer and warmer. He had listened to Genesis complain for a good thirty minutes about the sudden and dramatic temperature changes that morning.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," announced Hagrid grandly. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron mumbled to Harry in an undertone.

"Norbert?" said Sephiroth, cringing a little on the inside. He was fairly sure that anything, barring Genesis's suggestion of Prune, would make a better name.

Angeal seemed to think it there was still a chance of reasoning Hagrid and hadn't stopped attempting to do so since the first day. And since Sephiroth had taken the time to research Norwegian Ridgebacks, he didn't blame any of them for their reservations. He wasn't sure if the climate in Britain would be conducive to a dragon that regularly bathed itself in beds of lava to soften its scales for grooming purposes. Apparently they were something of the divas of dragons, too, because they groomed themselves the most—and had the biggest temperament issues.

In other words, the only other breed worse for Hagrid to raise would have to be the Hungarian Horntail.

"We could give it to Charlie," said Angeal. "He's studying dragons in Romania. He could take care of him and reintroduce him to the wild."

"That's a wonderful idea," said Hermione excitedly.

Convincing Hagrid took an enormous effort on their part and Sephiroth decided he didn't remember promising Malfoy a ride on _that_ particular dragon. That didn't stop him from feeling incredibly disappointed, curled up in a chair in the common room with Shinra in his lap. Harry tried to talk to him, but Sephiroth had a feeling that he just ended up making Harry feel a little guilty. It wasn't his intention, but—he really wanted Norbert, odd name and all, to stay.

"Look," said Harry one evening, "maybe it won't be _that_ bad if Norbert stays."

Sephiroth allowed himself to hope.

"Are you kidding me?" said Genesis. He stabbed a finger at Sephiroth. "His puppy eyes got to you. I can't believe this."

"Well, the chances of Malfoy saying anything are slim," said Harry defensively, pushing his glasses up his nose and making the light glare off of them. Genesis and Angeal started to gain that unnerved look they did whenever the Lake Incident was brought up. "And the Forbidden Forest is huge. If Hagrid can hide it deep enough—no one will ever know."

"Maybe next time Snape and Quirrell have a chat in the forest, it'll eat them," said Genesis, snickering despite himself.

"But . . ." Hermione looked visibly pained. "What's it going to eat? And didn't you say it needs lava to groom?"

"Once it reaches a year of age, it'll be able to spit out its own beds of molten rock," said Angeal with a sigh. "Someone will have to heat it up until then."

Collectively, the looked to Genesis, who instantly scowled.

"I am not working as the heater to that wrinkly, foul-smelling—"

Two days later found Genesis standing in Hagrid's house, heating up Norbert's scales with his flame-covered hands. Once he got over the fact he lost an argument, he had calmed down and seemed to be enjoying the action of burning the baby dragon over and over again. Sometimes, Sephiroth really wondered about him.

"At this rate, the castle's gonna run out of rats," said Ron as he hauled up another cart of dead rodents.

"Maybe Mrs. Norris will starve to death?" suggested Genesis, and they all brightened considerably. He yanked his hand away as Norbert snapped at him. "Vicious little brute! I'm going to wring your neck one of these days, so help me . . ."

Ron narrowly avoided getting bitten by Norbert while feeding him and ever since then, Hagrid would only allow Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal to feed the dragon. Ron kept throwing scathing looks at the dragon, something Sephiroth thought was unfair, giving the fact Norbert was a baby. Or maybe he was just biased toward the dragon. He supposed it helped that he was fast enough to dodge the dragon's teeth and claws, and that Hagrid was large enough that it didn't matter.

However, that was before the dragon got to the "tricky stage" as Hagrid so delicately put it, which was a nice way of saying the dragon turned into a murderous raving lunatic. Fang's tail was bandaged up from where Norbert nipped at him and Angeal was gently stroking the dog's head.

Sephiroth gave the door a knock and called through the wood, "Hagrid, maybe you should take Norbert outside? He's probably got a lot of pent up energy and staying in one little space isn't helping his attitude . . ."

"No, it's all ri— _argh!_ He only got my boot—he's only a baby, give him time!" yelled Hagrid from inside.

"Yeah, but, won't you have more room to dodge outside?"

"It's not too late to write Charlie," grumbled Ron. "This could all be taken care of. No more feeding dragons. No more almost losing limbs."

"How big do they get, anyway?" asked Harry.

"It varies, but the average is thirty feet from snout to tail, with an eighty foot wingspan," said Sephiroth carelessly.

They turned to look at the Forbidden Forest.

"Will we be able to hide it, even in the Forbidden Forest?" said Hermione.

Sephiroth had the mental image of the forest lit up at night with streams of fire and roars. Hopefully Norbert wouldn't be too loud. Or maybe the student populous would believe a new species of werewolves had moved in, or something—fire-breathing werewolves. Except the professors weren't likely going to accept not knowing what lived in the forest. It was times like this that Sephiroth was forced to face the reality of how difficult it would be to hide a fully grown dragon at a school.

Eventually, after nearly three weeks of indecision, they finally sent the letter to Charlie. When the reply letter arrived, Hagrid was near tears at the thought of parting with Norbert. Sephiroth had gotten over his reservations of saying goodbye to the dragon, though, after Norbert almost took a bite out of Harry's leg. He would have to wait until he was taller than four feet, nine inches to attempt to train a dragon.

The plan was incredibly simple. Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal would cart Norbert up to the tallest tower in Hogwarts, using the invisibility cloak so as to not be caught by any professors, or Filch. Hermione, Harry, and Ron opted to say behind, because they would make it harder to stay quiet. That, and Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis would have a much easier time hauling Norbert around than the three of them. They worked together well, so everything went smoothly.

Charlie's friends laughingly informed them of how lucky they were they gave Norbert to them now, and not at the stage where he would have started shrieking and spewing lava at random moments. Apparently there was a time where baby dragons began testing their vocal cords—they had narrowly avoided it.

"If the puddles of lava wouldn't have tipped everyone off, the screams would have," said Angeal as they watched Charlie's friends leave with Norbert.

"And I don't care how bite-proof Hagrid is, he isn't lava-proof," grumbled Genesis.

"I did promise Malfoy a ride," said Sephiroth regretfully.

"And it was the stupidest thing you could have done," said Genesis waspishly. "What were you thinking?"

"What was I supposed to do?" snapped Sephiroth defensively. "I didn't want him to tell anyone!"

"So you promised him the impossible?!"

"It's not _impossible_ ," said Sephiroth. "It just hasn't been done yet."

"Well, next time you have to promise something to someone like Malfoy," said Genesis irritably, "make it an up close and personal visit to the Whomping Willow."

When Norbert disappeared over the mountaintops, they descending the Astronomy tower. They almost forgot the invisibility cloak in their haste to leave, but Angeal, ever the responsible one, had doubled back to retrieve it from the floor. Not that they particularly needed it now that Norbert was gone. Sephiroth was confident enough in his abilities to sense any professors before they were caught. They avoided Professor Snape, who they were beginning to think never slept, and returned to the common room without a hitch.

"How did it go?" said Harry when they returned.

"Without a hitch," Genesis replied. "Nothing went wrong at all."

Despite their unerring success, or perhaps because of it, Sephiroth had a feeling something was about to go terribly wrong.

* * *

 **A/N: And Norbert goes... I was so tempted to keep Norbert around. So tempted. But there are other dragon breeds that I prefer, and logistically speaking, it's extremely unlikely they would be able to hide it forever. So yeah, Norbert had to go.**

 **Lotusballz guest: YESS that is exactly what I was doing. Am still doing. Because that's the kind of trash I am. XD And yeah, I was laughing my ass off envisioning Draco being confused over Sephiroth's gender. I just had to put it in there.**

 **I proofread, but if I missed anything, feel free to point it out. I can go back and edit it. Thanks for all the reviews and support, it means the world to me! :D**


	15. Chapter 15

14

It was three days after Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback was flown away from Hogwarts that the unthinkable happened. Genesis stomped toward Sephiroth, Harry, Ron, and Hermione and announced, "I've got a detention."

He sounded, understandably, furious.

"What?" said Sephiroth, echoed by Hermione, Ron, and Harry.

Angeal stood to the side, arms crossed with a displeased expression. If he had to guess, Sephiroth would say Angeal was also included in the detention. That begged the question of _why_ they were in detention in the first place. As far as Sephiroth knew, they hadn't done anything illegal recently. None of the professors knew about the dragon they sneaked out the night before, either, he was sure of it.

They were standing in a secluded part of a corridor, during their break between classes. Usually they would take these times to go to the library and study (on Hermione's request) but Genesis's announcement was so surprising she didn't say a word about homework. Sephiroth didn't blame her—neither of them had had a detention yet, so it was obviously a surprise. Although, if any of them were going to get a detention, Sephiroth wasn't shocked it was Genesis who got one first.

"Why?" said Ron urgently. "Did something happen?"

"It was Malfoy," said Angeal.

"He ratted us out!" snarled Genesis. "We let it slip that it was us who punched his lights out. Just wait—I'm going to punch him again, and this time he's not getting up."

"I'm pretty sure killing people isn't allowed," said Angeal, his expression not quite matching his words, and Sephiroth felt this conversation was familiar.

"Sephiroth, you'll probably get one, too," said Genesis. "Since you were in the area. We've got to meet Hagrid by his house tonight. At least our detention won't be boring—we're heading into the Forbidden Forest."

Sephiroth really shouldn't be excited for a detention. He shouldn't, but he had wanted to explore the Forbidden Forest almost since day one. Now that he had a chance to do so, he was undeniably looking forward to it. Hopefully he would have be able to see a unicorn (a real man like unicorns, no matter what Genesis said), or a centaur, or both if he was lucky. Apparently there was a colony of Acromantula, which he was significantly less eager to meet.

"Are you serious?" said Genesis, glaring at Sephiroth as if he already knew what the other was thinking. He probably did. "It's a _punishment_. Do not smile!"

Sephiroth blinked.

"I wasn't," he said.

"Yes, you were," snapped Genesis. "It was strange."

He would have argued, but the bell rang and they had to get to their classes before they were late. Instead they sniped back and forth all the way to charms, while Hermione worriedly spoke to Angeal, and Harry and Ron formulated ways to get back at Malfoy. They resembled a tornado on legs and it said something about Hogwarts' adaptability that none of the other students threw them a second glance. People had already gotten used to that peculiar group of first years in Gryffindor.

"But it was an accident," said Hermione after charms, as they headed for lunch. She had strained to keep quiet during their entire class, and the words nearly burst out as they left the classroom. "A whole detention just for one incident? And to the Forbidden Forest?"

"Snape was in the area," Genesis explained, tossing his back of supplies over his shoulder and following her out. "He remembered when I almost punched Malfoy back before Christmas. When Hagrid was hauling in the tree?"

Hermione nodded instantly, leaving Sephiroth incredulously wondering how they fit all of that information in their heads. He never would have remembered if Genesis didn't elaborate.

"Snape implied it wasn't the first time we'd gotten in a fight," Angeal finished. "McGonagall was furious."

"And she believed him?" said Hermione, outraged.

"Um . . ." Sephiroth cast a sideways look at Genesis, who looked as though he was going to start lobbing fireballs at a moment's notice. "Yeah?"

"I am getting back at him, one way or another," said Genesis, his hand clenching into a fist around his bag's strap.

"We could hire Fred and George," Sephiroth suggested.

"No, I'm doing this personally."

Sephiroth almost felt pity for Malfoy, who was surely going to be in a world of pain sometime soon. He could only imagine what Genesis meant by "getting back," but he had always struck Sephiroth as the type who would stop at nothing in terms of humiliation. As long as his schemes didn't draw Harry or himself into it, he really didn't care too much. (Even if he really did feel a little bad for Malfoy at the moment).

The rest of the day, Sephiroth waited for his detention to come. When dinner rolled around and none of the professors had cornered him, he started to get annoyed. That was around when Genesis started plotting something that involved slugs and salt, and he figured he should probably warn Malfoy that something big was about to happen. That, and he wanted to clear up a suspicion he had about the detention, because it couldn't possibly be true.

He waited until Malfoy left the Slytherin table, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, and slipped away from dinner early. It wasn't easy, considering his famed appetite, but when he really put his mind to something, his success rate was nearly infallible.

"Malfoy," he called once they was outside the Great Hall, and witnessed Malfoy jump a good foot off the ground. He barely managed to catch himself from laughing.

Malfoy spun around, Crabbe and Goyle positioning themselves in front of him. When they saw who they were hypothetically up against, they blanched.

"What do you want?" asked Malfoy edgily. He glanced around the hall in a paranoid fashion. It seemed he was already anticipating Genesis's counterattack.

"You . . . you included me in the fight, didn't you?" said Sephiroth. "I've got a detention?"

 _I get to explore the Forbidden Forest_ went unsaid and entirely unheard on Malfoy's part, as he didn't have an earthly clue about Sephiroth's ambitions.

"No," he said, and Sephiroth's hopes crashed and burned. Malfoy drew himself up in an attempted to look dignified. "That puts you in my debt. _And_ you owe me a dragon ride—a dragon you _got rid of_."

"You—have you _tried_ hiding a dragon?" said Sephiroth, spluttering. He was trying and failing to comprehend that he had gotten out of detention. Because of Malfoy. "It's not easy. It was spewing fire _everywhere_ and—where did you expect us to put it? Flying it takes it above the forest line and—I can't believe you left me out of the detention!"

"That's no excu—wait, are you angry you're not in detention?" said Malfoy, utterly baffled and wide-eyed. "You realize they're going into the Forbidden Forest?"

"Exactly!" Sephiroth exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air in exasperation. "And you actually spared me. What's wrong with you?!"

"I don't unde—"

"Sephiroth!" shouted Genesis, storming out of the Great Hall, only to stop short when he saw Malfoy. "Oh, it's _you._ "

"We're heading for our detention," said Angeal. "You coming?"

"He's not—" started Malfoy, but stopped the instant he saw Sephiroth's glare.

"Yeah, I'm coming!" he said amiably. "See you, Malfoy."

"Are you—you've got to be—first then train, then—"

Sephiroth seemed to have broken Malfoy's brain. He ran after Genesis and Angeal and they went to leave the castle. Except, Malfoy seemed to be trailing after them, still completely aghast at the fact that Sephiroth was willing going into a detention with the intention of seeing the Forbidden Forest, which was notoriously frightening, up close. If he didn't turn around soon, then Filch was going to spot him and things would not go well for him.

He went to tell Malfoy to bug off—but Genesis stopped him.

"Let him," he said with a vicious smirk.

Malfoy seemed to catch on at that moment and went to make a speedy exit. Genesis was much faster and as luck had it, Filch turned up at that moment.

"Oh, Mr. Filch," said Genesis, the picture of innocence. "Malfoy was trying to skip his detention."

Even if Malfoy's name wasn't on the list of people that were supposed to be in detention, Filch wasn't one for exempting students from punishment, deserved or not. The truly nasty smile on his face sealed Malfoy's fate.

"Why were you following us in the first place?" hissed Sephiroth as they trailed after Filch, out of the castle.

Malfoy was spitting furious.

"I _wasn't_ ," he snarled. "I was heading in the same direction!"

Sephiroth wasn't fooled for an instant and he didn't need to say so for it to be known. Malfoy only scowled, looking away and attempting to march ahead, only to find his shoelaces mysteriously tied together. A couple paces behind them, Genesis gave a snicker. Malfoy would have fallen face-first in the dirt, but Sephiroth had mercy and caught him.

It was probably hard to see at night for Malfoy and the others, but Sephiroth's night vision made it easy enough. There was also the full moon, which shone bright enough to light the outside to near clarity, with the exception of the few times a patch of clouds blotted it out. Even with all of that, he could see Malfoy was already glancing around nervously.

While Sephiroth had been able to muster up pity beforehand, he couldn't bring himself to do so now. "Heading in the same direction" while he knew they were going to detention was the height of stupidity. He really should have expected it from Filch.

"It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out," Filch was saying as he guided them over the grounds, lamp shaky in his gnarled hand, "hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed. . . . Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

Sephiroth could just see Hagrid's bulky form in the distance and he waved—and then remembered Hagrid couldn't see him. He quickly shoved his arm down, but not before Malfoy threw him a confused look and Genesis snorted.

"Is that you, Filch?" said Hagrid when they drew nearer. "Hurry up, I want ter get started."

"I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf?" said Filch, having caught Sephiroth's expression of eagerness. "Well, think again, boy—it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

Malfoy looked terrified and Genesis grinned, vindicated.

"Still excited?" Filch had a note of incredulity in his voice.

Sephiroth tried to look the proper amounts of scared, but had a feeling it didn't work out. He all but flung himself at Hagrid (the man had been terribly depressed since Norbert was shipped off to Romania) in what he hoped looked like fright. Going off the way Genesis was stifling laughter and Angeal sighed, this also failed. He couldn't help it; he'd been looking forward to this for a long while, and acting wasn't his strong suit. The dramatic arts were all for Genesis, not himself.

"Abou' time," said Hagrid, ruffling Sephiroth hair. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, you three?"

"Spiffy," said Genesis with a cheery smile.

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," came Filch's voice. "They're here to be punished, not rewarded."

"That's why yer late, is it? Bin lecturin' them, eh?" Hagrid didn't look pleased. "'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn . . . for what's left of them," said Filch with an unpleasant sneer. He started his way back up to the castle.

Genesis had the gall to wave as he left. Hagrid gave a snort of amusement.

"I'm not going into that forest," said Malfoy and Sephiroth turned to look at the other boy. One he had the Forbidden Forest in his sights, he had more or less forgotten that Malfoy was still there.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid, a hint of unmoving steel in his tone. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But, I didn't do anything!" protested Malfoy, for once actually telling the truth.

"Likely story," said Hagrid gruffly, straightening up.

"If my father knew about this—"

"If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack," said Hagrid with an air of finality. "Go on!"

Genesis's eyes were boring into the side of Malfoy's head. Sephiroth would pay galleons to know what was going on between the two of them at that moment, but unfortunately, he wasn't a mind-reader. Whatever the case, Malfoy scowled viciously and adverted his gaze from the both of them, and Genesis looked vaguely triumphant. Now Sephiroth _really_ wanted to know what that was all about, but neither of them look like they would explain any time soon.

"Right then, now, listen carefully," said Hagrid, repositioning his crossbow so it was in front of him and nocking an arrow, "'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

A normal person would have been terrified by this point, out at night by a thick, dense forest that may or may not be full of monsters out to pick the flesh from their bones. Except Sephiroth had never claimed to be normal and he was looking forward to taking a look at the Forbidden Forest with his own eyes. He was aware of the only semi-normal member of their group strategically placing himself in the center of the procession. Malfoy, at the very least, knew where to go for safety.

Hagrid grabbed the back of Sephiroth's shirt before he could march into the Forbidden Forest on his own.

"Not so fas'," he said, but there was amusement in his tone. If there was one thing they both agreed on, it was their liking of dangerous magical creatures. "Look there, see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood—"

"A unicorn was hurt?" said Sephiroth, alarmed, still hanging off the ground in Hagrid's grip. He twisted around to get a better look at Hagrid. "Is it badly injured? What would do something like that?"

"Yeah—and that's what we're tryin' ter figure out," said Hagrid. "I dunno what did it, an' if we're lucky we won' run inter it. This is the second in a week, though—I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have to put it out of its misery."

"Something _killed_ a unicorn?" said Angeal, aghast. "Aren't they supposed to creatures of purity? Who would do that?"

"I think the real question is _what_ , Angeal," said Genesis lowly. "Even if they were human once, they aren't anymore."

"What if whatever killed the unicorn finds us first?" came Malfoy's terrified voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang. An' keep ter the path," Hagrid added. "Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," Malfoy demanded, all too much a testimony of what he didn't know about the dog's personality. Fang might have been a large dog with impressive teeth, but at the first sign of danger, he would be running even faster than the humans around him.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," replied Hagrid, waving Fang over to Malfoy's side, who was looking significantly less relieved. "So me, Genesis, an' Angeal will go one way an' Draco, Sephiroth, an' Fang will go the other—"

"Are you sure I can't go with Malfoy?" asked Genesis, straight-faced.

Hagrid threw him a wary look.

"Anyway," he said, a sure _I don't think so_ if there ever was one, "if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now—that's it—an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh—so, be careful—let's go."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Sephiroth more or less dragged Malfoy into the Forbidden Forest, with Fang bounding along behind them energetically. The path they were walking down was narrow and winding, covered in underbrush from lack of use. It sloped off to one side in a way that made it a distinctly unpleasant stroll, with a short drop-off to their side that was steadily getting deeper and deeper, until Malfoy was no longer comfortable walking along the edge. He kept glancing around nervously.

"Don't worry," said Sephiroth, but his voice breaking the silence was enough to make Malfoy jump. He attempted to keep the sudden urge to laugh out of his tone. "There's nothing around us right now—I can't hear or see anything."

"It's _dark_ ," Malfoy pointed out. Then he added, sounding decidedly unnerved, "You know your eyes glow in the dark, right?"

"Yes," said Sephiroth shortly. There had been a time Harry thought his eyes glowed as well.

"That's not normal," said Malfoy, looking faint.

Sephiroth came to a stop in a patch of moonlight that filtered through the forest canopy and the clouds, half-turning to look back at Malfoy.

"Yeah, and right now I can hear everything within a mile radius," said Sephiroth. "So, be a little grateful you're not with a "normal" human being."

It was probably his imagination, combined with the shadows cast off the trees, but Malfoy looked a little chagrined. They set off again without another word, following the patches of silvery blood periodically visibly on the forest floor. A wave of sadness passed through Sephiroth at the thought of a unicorn being hurt, even killed. He had read enough (during the long hours he was forced to sit in the library while the others studied) about them to know they were exceptionally powerful magical creatures. Whatever hurt them had to try _very_ hard to do so, which was even more shameful.

Sephiroth noticed the puddles were getting less and less severe and allowed himself to hope it meant the unicorn was healing up. If they found it in time, before anything else did, Hagrid might be able to save it. He stopped by a broken-off tree trunk, where the ground was a little moister than the rest of the surrounding area. While he was by no means a tracker—the frantic array of hoof prints digging into the soil could only mean something had spooked the unicorn.

"Hey," said Malfoy nervously, "d'you suppose it was a human? Or some kind of dark creature? A monster?"

Sephiroth shrugged.

"No clue," he admitted. "If I had to pick, I'd go for the monster or dark creature though. . . . They're less likely to be intelligent."

"What?"

"Think about it," said Sephiroth as they moved on. "If it's a human, they've got strategy and critical thinking on their side, while monsters and dark creatures are all instinct. We're more likely to be threatened by something that's clever than something that's wild."

"B—But dark creatures are _dangerous_ ," said Malfoy. He was turning out to be the type who talked a lot when he was scared. "What if it was a dementor?!"

"A what?" said Sephiroth, but before the other could reply, he heard something foreign to the natural sounds of a nighttime forest. "Wait, quiet."

Malfoy immediately went silent and white-faced.

"Come on," said Sephiroth, heading off toward the sound.

It reminded him of a large snake, or a long cloak sweeping across the ground. He could just hear the rustle of fabric as they drew nearer and went for the latter. He motioned for Malfoy to get down, and they both crouched behind a line of underbrush at the edge of a clearing. Something smelled foul, but not like the kind of stench the troll possessed—something about it made his entire body tense. There was something in this forest that wasn't right.

Then Sephiroth's breath caught, because just through the low sweeping branches, he could see the slender and striking figure of a unicorn. It was limping slightly, a couple puddles of blood dotting the clearing, and it looked very tired. He immediately noticed the ivory horn between its eyes, graceful as its pure white mane and tail. How anyone could injure such a creature, he would never know.

"Is that—?" said Malfoy, awed.

"Yeah," he whispered in reply.

"Whoa."

Sephiroth sensed it a half-second before the attack came. It was pure instinct—he didn't know where it came from, but he was thankful for it—that had him launching himself out of the underbrush, startling the unicorn out of its spot. The unicorn gave a great leap to get away from him and narrowly missed a flash of sickly green light. It darted off into the forest, leaving a streak of silver on the leaves as it went, and Sephiroth gave a sigh of relief.

And then he remembered he was still in the forest with something that actively killed unicorns. Malfoy hadn't moved from his spot, but his breath had hitched and he seemed to be on the verge of panic. Sephiroth didn't know what that green light was, but it was going off of Malfoy's reaction, it was not a good thing.

Malfoy was frantically waving him over, eyes widened in horror, and hissing, "We need to get out!"

Sephiroth took a half-step toward the forest line—and jumped backwards neatly as another burst of green light skittered by him, missing by inches. He glanced up as a dark, cloaked figure seemed to slide into the clearing, made of darkness and shadow, as if it didn't quite belong in on the world. It was strange and unnerving, the way it seemed to glide over the leaves and earth like a wraith.

A buzzing had started in the back of Sephiroth's head again, distracting him so much he almost didn't dodge fast enough to miss the next flash of green. He was vaguely aware of Malfoy hyperventilating in the forest—the buzzing was progressing to an irritating ringing sound, his limbs heavier than they should have been and a migraine building up behind his forehead. The creature circled around him and Sephiroth didn't like how he suddenly felt like prey.

He grasped his wand to send up red sparks, deciding it was better not to risk life and limb since Malfoy was here with him, but was forced to dodge again instead. When the green light zipped passed him, Sephiroth used that window of opportunity to attempt to send up red sparks—a chill went down his spine and irrational fear gripped him. He couldn't move, couldn't _breathe_ , he wasn't even sure if his heart was beating in his chest anymore.

There was a voice whispering to him and it didn't belong to that kind, green-eyed girl. It was cruel and cold and possessive—and he still couldn't move his body.

The dark figure slithered nearer to him and Sephiroth knew he wasn't going to die. No—something much worse was going to happen to him.

A slip of white blurred passed him for one second, Sephiroth thought the unicorn had returned to help them. Then he caught the sight of a man's torso fused with the body of a white horse. He was so startled he almost forgot about the presence of centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, and sat back on the ground very hard, just catching himself before he could tumble over completely.

At some point, Sephiroth didn't know when, Malfoy had left his hiding spot in the forest and ran out into the clearing. His wand was pointed upward and Sephiroth could only hope he had sent red sparks.

The shadowy figure was gone, leaving them alone in the forest with a centaur. As soon as Sephiroth stopped feeling as though he was going into shock, he would be relieved. Except, all he could feel was a general feeling of confusion and numbness, as though his head was stuffed full of cotton. For a second there, he hadn't been able to move. It was as if someone had tied strings to his limbs and told him to stay still, before they were abruptly cut and he was freed.

"Are you all right?" asked the centaur, moving closer to them. He was pure white, with silvery hair that, were it not for the shade of blond, would have resembled Sephiroth's. He reached down and set Sephiroth back on his feet.

"Yes?" said Sephiroth, and that was all he could manage. He felt terribly startled. "What just—there was . . ."

"It is not safe for you to be in the forest," said the centaur. "You must leave as soon as possible. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way."

For a second, Sephiroth only stared—ride a centaur? First a unicorn, and now he was riding a centaur. The centaur looked urgent, though, so when he lowered himself down, Sephiroth didn't wait around. He grabbed Malfoy by the front of his shirt, startling him badly, and hauled them both up on the centaur's back.

"I am Firenze," said the centaur.

"Sephiroth Crescent," said Sephiroth blankly.

Malfoy waved a hand in front of his face—Sephiroth glared at him, but turned his head when he heard several more hooves clopping against the ground at a fast rate.

"There's more of you coming," he said to Firenze, a heartbeat before the newcomers galloped out of the forest line. Going off their expressions, they weren't happy with what they saw.

"Firenze!" shouted the dark-haired centaur furiously. "What are you doing? Why is that _child_ on your back?! Have you forgotten what that thing is? Answer me, Firenze!"

"The quicker he leaves the forest, the better," said Firenze.

Sephiroth had a feeling they weren't talking about Malfoy. He just wished, if they were going to talk about him so blatantly, they would refer to his _name,_ instead of calling him "that boy" or "the thing." Names were given for a reason, after all.

"What have you been telling him?" snarled the dark-haired centaur. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movement of the planets?"

The redheaded centaur accompanying the other looked as though he would rather not be there, judging from the way he glanced back and forth between Firenze and the dark-haired centaur.

"I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said, his voice soulful and melancholy.

"For the best!" spat the raging centaur. "Have you forgotten how the stars fell the night that boy was born? He is a calamity! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"

"Did you not see that unicorn?!" yelled Firenze, and somehow that even more frightening—he had seemed so calm and collected. "Do you not understand why it was nearly killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with the humans alongside me if I must."

Sephiroth, who had been half-tempted to jump off Firenze's back and drag Malfoy with him when the centaur called him a calamity, barely managed to grab hold in time when Firenze whirled around. Then they were sprinting through the trees, the overgrown ferns and grasses just tall enough to brush by their feet as Firenze galloped away from the other two centaurs. It was a good thing, too—Sephiroth really had planned on taking off the moment they started looking at him as though he was a monster.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" demanded Malfoy, who was finally at his wit's end. "Why was he so angry? Who's a calamity? What's a calamity?"

For once, Genesis's dramatics and Hermione's books paid off, and Sephiroth quickly explained what the word _calamity_ entailed.

"They think you're some kind of bringer of mass destruction?" said Malfoy, snorting.

Sephiroth wasn't sure if he should be touched or insulted.

"The only thing you're threatening is the world's supply of food," Malfoy finished, and Sephiroth went for insulted. "And maybe the barber that has to trim your hair."

 _Definitely_ insulted.

"What was that thing?" asked Sephiroth after a long period of silence, where he determined that Firenze wasn't one for an easy-flowing conversation.

"Sephiroth Crescent," said Firenze, "do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"Ah . . ." Sephiroth wracked his brain. He knew they had done a couple potions involving unicorn horns and hairs in Snape's class, but nothing on a unicorn's blood. "No, sorry."

"That is as it should be," said Firenze, nodding his head. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something so pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

Sephiroth ignored the flash of blood and fire that slipped into his mind, unbidden and unfamiliar. He attempted to on the cool night air blowing his hair back from his shoulders. How anyone could do such a thing—

"I can't imagine what kind of horrible person would do something like that," he said quietly. "Even death is preferable."

"It is—unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else," said Firenze, a note of ominous warning in his tone. "Something that will bring you back to full strength and power—something that will mean you can never die. Mr. Crescent, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"Flamel's stone," Sephiroth whispered. "Of course. . . . But I can't imagine someone who would want to be immortal that badly."

"Flamel's stone?" repeated Malfoy, shocked. "You mean the Sorcerer's Stone is inside Hogwarts? Right now?"

Sephiroth briefly pondered how he was going to explain to everyone that Malfoy knew about the Stone, and that it was his fault. On top of that, Malfoy knew about the dragon they smuggled out (even though he'd be hard pressed to find evidence if he wanted to get them in trouble), and was holding the fact Sephiroth promised him a ride on a tamed dragon as blackmail, apparently. It was something of an irony that a Slytherin was holding someone to their word.

"And someone wants to steal it?" Malfoy went on, shaking Sephiroth's shoulder insistently. "Is this what your merry band of circus freaks have been up to all year?"

"Merry band of circus—" Sephiroth spluttered, outraged.

"Can you truly think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?" said Firenze above their voices.

And all of Sephiroth's current worries shut down, locking onto a single thing that had dawned inside him. The truth of what had been going on all year, who had really been after the Stone—and who would want his brother dead at all costs. A person who was inside Hogwarts by himself, with only Hermione and Ron, while the strongest of their group were coincidentally all in the Forbidden Forest. Anything could happen and Sephiroth wouldn't be there to stop it.

Firenze, as it turned out, had excellent reflexes. He caught Sephiroth before he could dart off into the forest after his brother.

"What are you doing?" yelped Malfoy.

"Let me down!" Sephiroth thrashed in Firenze's grip. "If it really is Voldemort, he'll be going after Harry—I've got to get to him—"

"What are you talking about?" shouted Malfoy, abandoned all pretenses of calm. "And don't say that name! What is wrong with you?!"

That was when Sephiroth heard the familiar, hurried gait of Hagrid, followed by Genesis and Angeal. Genesis burst through the trees first, a flame held in the palm of his hand to light the path in front of him. There were sticks and leaves stuck in his hair and clinging to his Hogwarts uniform, giving him the appearance of someone who picked a fight with a tree and lost miserably. (It was unfortunately possible at Hogwarts). Angeal more or less looked the same as when they left, with the occasional leaf adding a splash of color to his clothing.

"Sephiroth!" called Genesis, coming to a stop in front of Firenze. He hardly spared the centaur a glance—nor did he comment on the fact Sephiroth was hanging limply from Firenze's grip like a rag doll. "What happened? We saw sparks, did you get attacked?"

"Sort of," said Sephiroth, but Malfoy interrupted.

" 'Sort of'?" he said, his voice pitched shriller than normal in incredulity. "You almost _died!_ You realize those were Killing Curses being thrown at you?!"

" _What?_ " said Genesis, in dead shock.

"The green lights could kill me?" Sephiroth exclaimed.

"Someone was tryin' ter kill yeh?!" Hagrid shouted.

"There was a unicorn, too," Sephiroth added helpfully. "It ran off, but it didn't look too injured. You don't have to put it out of its misery."

"You're worried about the unicorn," muttered Angeal, face-palming spectacularly, " _of course_ you're worried about the unicorn."

Hagrid swiftly ordered them back to the castle and took off in the direction of the injured unicorn. When he was gone, Firenze finally set Sephiroth down on the forest floor.

"This is where I leave you," said Firenze, his blue eyes flitted from them to the stars, which were much easier to see now that they were out of the forest. "You are safe now."

Genesis tore his eyes away from Sephiroth, scowling slightly, to Firenze.

"I would wish you luck, but—the planets have been read wrongly before now, even by the centaurs," said Firenze. "Destiny and fate can be fickle masters. I hope this is one of those times."

They waited long enough to watch Firenze disappear back into the Forbidden Forest, before turning to trek back up to the castle. It was around one or two in the morning and they all should have been exhausted, but Sephiroth was wired from discovering Voldemort was still alive and was probably—definitely—after his brother.

" _Now_ will you explain everything about the Stone and You-Know-Who?" said Malfoy waspishly. "I think I deserve to know, after nearly being killed."

Sephiroth didn't remember asking Malfoy to stick around after the figure attacked.

"Yes, do explain," said Genesis with a false smile. "How does _Malfoy_ know about the Stone?"

It was going to be a long morning.

* * *

 **A/N: So this stayed mostly canon compliant, but there are a few Easter eggs that gives hints to the future plot line. ...Oh yeah, and Happy Easter! (The candy made me crash faster than the Sevent-ok, it'll always be too soon for that).**

 **Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews! It's always awesome to hear your insight and answer questions.**

 **Until next week!**


	16. Chapter 16

15

Sephiroth took one look at Harry's face and knew he was in for a scolding. Sure enough, the moment he was within speaking range (thankfully, Harry was calm enough to not start shouting), a legendary torrent of words was spouted in his general direction. He tried to keep up and listen, but it was somewhat hard when Harry _and_ Hermione were talking at the same time. That, and he was honestly tired after spending most of the night in the Forbidden Forest. He really just wanted to head upstairs and crash in exhaustion.

He decided he would let them forget that Malfoy knew about the Stone and Voldemort. Harry was bad enough as it was, let alone if Sephiroth threw more fuel onto the fire. Especially since he was the one cooking in the fire.

"I know you were interested in the Forbidden Forest, but this takes it took a whole new level!" Harry cried, nearly tearing his hair out in frustration. "If I had known this was going to be a trend after the train thing—"

"What train thing?" asked Hermione, derailing the conversation. "I've heard you mention it quite frequently."

Something nearly akin to dread rose up inside of Sephiroth. They hadn't told Hermione about the train. It wasn't on purpose, but mostly due to the fact it never came up in their conversations anymore, so she didn't know. He also hadn't told them his real age, which was unnecessary by now—he was fairly sure they wouldn't go telling anyone. Even if they did, the professors probably wouldn't believe them. His name had been on the parchment during the Sorting Ceremony, so as far as everyone else was concerned, he was cleared for attendance. (Although, a part of him knew he should probably figure out how to tell them about the voices and inner world he was experiencing).

The varying facial expressions Hermione went through were nothing short of fascinating, as Harry explained Sephiroth's unique, and potentially life threatening, way of boarding the Hogwarts Express. Eventually, she settled on righteous fury. She turned and looked him up and down, as if he would still have injuries from the train ride six months later.

"Are you mad?" she shrieked. "Why didn't you board like a normal person?! You could have been killed! Could you imagine how horrible Harry would feel if you were injured? Did you even think about anyone else when you did something so—so _reckless_?"

Sephiroth nearly flinched at her last question. It hit a nerve he didn't know was bothering him. Until then, he hadn't thought of his (somewhat desperate) behavior as selfish in any way, but—was she right? If he was hurt, his brother would be upset.

"Percy stopped him from boarding," said Ron, coming to his defense. "He didn't believe Sephiroth was eleven."

"Um . . ." Sephiroth felt another twinge of guilt. He had been lying about that the entire time, and while it wasn't a severe lie—it was still a lie.

"Then use your _ticket_ ," snapped Hermione. "Why didn't you?"

"I . . . lost it?" said Sephiroth, scrambling for something to say and failing spectacularly. Harry sighed.

Hermione looked furious.

"You—"

"Actually . . . _Ididn'tgetaticket_ ," said Sephiroth in one big rush. He might as well get it over with, since she was already angry beyond words and it couldn't possibly get any worse. Hopefully they wouldn't hate him—or leave, or yell, or—he decided to stop thinking before he worked himself into a panic attack.

"What," said Genesis flatly.

"Are we doing this now?" said Harry, nonplussed. They looked at him—Angeal, Genesis, Hermione, and Ron in confusion, and Sephiroth in hopelessness. "Okay, we're doing this now."

Hermione's face was stormy, her mind visibly whirling for answers. The slightly frightening thing was, Sephiroth wouldn't have been surprised if she came to the right conclusions before he even managed to tell them the truth. She was _that_ intelligent.

"If you didn't get a ticket . . . you must've not received the letter—but you're not a Muggle, then . . ."

Her eye twitched.

"How old are you?"

Sephiroth was doomed.

" _Merlin_ ," said Harry, his eyes wide. "That was fast!"

" _Aniki_ . . . try not to sound so impressed, please?"

"Sorry," said Harry, smiling sheepishly.

Genesis seemed to have caught on. There was a conflicted look on his face, as if he wasn't sure whether to laugh at Sephiroth, or get very angry that his rival might have been much, _much_ younger than he originally thought. Angeal didn't look surprised in the least, which made Sephiroth wonder if he had caught on already somehow and when he figured it out.

"You're at least ten, right?" he said irritably. "A short ten year old."

"I'm nine," said Sephiroth, suddenly feeling far more amused than the topic warranted. Then he blinked and added, "No, wait. I turned ten a few weeks ago."

Genesis didn't look very relieved.

"Hey, Gen," said Ron with a snort. "Your rival's barely out of the single digits."

Hermione, whose face had been unreadable for the passed couple minutes, suddenly looked curiously bright-eyed. She wasn't nearly as furious as Sephiroth thought she would be, nor did she have that miffed expression that spelled a couple days suffering under the silent treatment.

"That means . . . you're a real-life child prodigy!" she exclaimed.

Sephiroth was starting to regret telling the truth. The thought of sleep had never been more inviting.

"What?" he said.

"Yeah, what?" said Genesis. "Him, a prodigy? He barely keeps up in his classes."

"That's because he's around two years under the average age!" said Hermione, beaming. "He's done very well, considering."

Sephiroth didn't even know what to think anymore. Just yesterday, she had been saying his marks were abysmal and he needed to study harder, or else. The "or else" was held a good deal of threat, considering she was holding her notes hostage. She wanted them to learn how to be self-sufficient.

"You're all taking this better than I thought," said Sephiroth.

"What? I'm angry!" said Genesis. "My rival's a pipsqueak little kid!"

"I thought you'd all be a lot angrier," said Sephiroth, deftly avoiding Genesis's gaze.

" _Don't ignore me!_ "

Angeal crossed his arms, unconcerned.

"Well, to be honest," he said, "I expected there was something going on. You were much smaller than the other first years, yeah, but even after Madam Pomfrey saw to your nutritional intake, you didn't sprout up like you should have. I think a lot of people would have noticed it, if not for the . . . well, you know."

 _The silver hair and glowing green eyes._ They were something of a distraction, so it made sense people noticed the unusual coloring first, over his diminutive size. He had grown an inch though, Sephiroth thought sourly, so it wasn't as though his growth level was frozen.

"I didn't even think about it," said Ron.

"I'm not surprised," said Genesis waspishly.

"Oh, you're just annoyed you didn't figure it out sooner," Ron snapped back.

If nothing else, the confession managed to take their minds off the imminent threat.

Voldemort was raising, that was for certain, and none of them were ready for it. On top of that, he was probably angry at Harry for stopping him eleven years go. Sephiroth could tell by the way Harry tossed and turned all night that he was more stressed out than ever, and almost regretted telling him about the dark figure in the woods. Keeping something like that a secret was out of the question, though, as much as the knowledge weighed Harry down.

He had meant to tell them about the girl in his head and that "inner world," but he couldn't think of a way to express it. Hearing voices was just a little more severe than an age gap and he hadn't even told Harry. At first, he had kept it to himself due to thinking it was all in his imagination. After talking to the girl, seeing her for the first time, it solidified the fact it was all real. Explaining it to others, though—there was no way he wouldn't sound like he was going insane.

"Something wrong?" asked Harry a couple days later, over lunch. The usual bustle of students going to and from the Great Hall surrounded them, the enchanted ceiling a clear, cloudless blue.

Sephiroth shook his head distractedly, mind filled with note after note he had been forced to take. Hermione had finally lived up to her threats and had stopped allowing them to look at her notes. It had been incredibly panic-inducing at first, but he managed to hold on during the classes—even if only just. Her reasoning had been that she didn't want to obstruct his "inherent genius" and allow his intelligence to suffer because he was relying on her. Sephiroth thought she was putting far too much belief in his ability to remember every word the professors spouted.

The last vestiges of the cooler weather had disappeared, leaving only the unforgiving summer sun to beat down on them. Only the dungeons where Professor Snape's class was held stayed below uncomfortably hot anymore. Sephiroth no longer complained when Hermione tied his hair up, allowing air to his neck and back that would be stifling otherwise. He suspected she enjoyed doing it, because she hadn't insisted he try to learn how to tie his own hair up, yet.

"Exams in two weeks," mumbled Hermione while they were in the library. "Powdered ingredients versus whole, the advantages and disadvantages . . ."

"So, I used the four-maneuver technique and ended it in two minutes," said Ron, chin resting on his stack of books, head full of chess techniques. "Percy falls for the same trick every time."

"Percy cares more about money budgets and the fifty percent off sale at the market," said Genesis sourly.

"He's looking out for everyone," said Angeal sternly. "We can't afford the usual prices."

"Have you gotten passed the monkshood yet?" asked Hermione, peering over at Sephiroth's parchment.

Sephiroth felt as though he hadn't slept in a week. He nodded blearily, aware of the ink smeared on his forehead, but caring too little to clean it off. Hermione seemed to have given up on the others and was focusing all her attention on Sephiroth's studies; only she was hassling him to do the work himself instead of really helping. He was more or less forced to actually study, or listen to her pester him about it constantly. Apparently she _really_ didn't want to let his brain go to waste.

"It's a meaningless effort," said Genesis, and just like that, Sephiroth found himself with lot more motivation to study. Even if it was only to prove Genesis wrong.

Hermione seemed to approve of their rivalry as long is it positively influenced their studies. The rest didn't care, because they were more worried about the Stone and making sure Voldemort didn't get it. Their conflict of interests were blatant, but—Sephiroth had caught Hermione studying up on defensive spells that weren't in their curriculum and knew she was a lot more worried than she let on.

Sephiroth seemed to have a permanent headache now, but he couldn't tell if it was from the constant overload or homework, or something else. It was piercing, just behind his forehead, accompanied by the buzzing he had experienced in the Forbidden Forest. He half expected to be pulled into that inner world again, because last time his headaches stopped afterwards, but it never happened. He hadn't figured out if there was a way to go there on his own, either.

"Why did you want to come to Hogwarts so badly?" asked Genesis abruptly.

It had been three weeks since Sephiroth told them about his true age, and he thought those questions really should have happened awhile ago. The question seemed to have been bothering Genesis, though, if the frown pinching his forehead was anything to go by.

Now Angeal, Hermione, and Ron were looking at him, waiting for an answer. All Sephiroth could think of was a dark, lonely cupboard and the hateful eyes of the Dursleys. He hadn't wanted to stay in a place where he was loathed and treated like a monster. Telling them that, on the other hand, felt a little too much like a cry for help on his part. Harry had no where else to go and that meant the both of them were stuck there.

"Um . . ." he wracked his brain for an answer. "Magic . . .?"

"Magic? That's the only reason?" said Genesis, unbelieving.

Hermione looked almost contrite.

"Actually . . . that makes perfect sense," she said. "I got my letter over a year ago, because of the way my birthday falls. Honestly, if I could have gotten away with it—"

She cut herself off, embarrassed.

"Is the Muggle world that boring?" said Ron.

"Yes," said Sephiroth in a deadpan.

"No flying brooms, pictures don't move, no ghosts," Harry ticked them off his fingers. "No monstrous dogs."

"Sounds peaceful," sighed Ron.

Sephiroth couldn't help a laugh.

"Sort of."

And before they knew it, they were all laughing. With the exams and Voldemort wearing heavily on their minds, it felt good to just sit around the common room and have a good laugh.

Sooner than later, they were in the classroom, taking their exams. It was with a great deal of shock and disbelief that he found he recognized most of the things on the exams. Hermione's obsessiveness had paid off and it appeared as though he was actually confident he would get good marks. He was going to have to thank her for it later. Ron and Harry didn't look so confident, although Sephiroth bet Harry's problem was the fact his scar was almost constantly hurting him as of late.

He was given extra points from Professor McGonagall for the detailed music notes he put on the snuffboxes they were told to transfigure, although the pineapple Professor Flitwick had him charm ended up doing something that resembled a martial arts kata. He got points taken off for the wrong dance—but a couple thrown on for a tricky jumping round-house kick the pineapple performed.

Professor Snape was nothing short of unbearable, with the way he loomed over them and seemed to emanate an ominous aura. Three times Sephiroth almost dropped the wrong ingredients in his potion when Snape seemed to materialize over his shoulder and poor Neville was on the verge of tears as his potion started to give off a curious type of orange smoke. Sephiroth was fairly sure the fumes from the Forgetfulness potion was affecting their memories, too. It was a special kind of sadism that Sephiroth wouldn't put passed Snape to do.

"I don't even care anymore," said Ron after they finished their second-to-last exam. He was pale and there was a lifeless look in his eyes "I just want this to be over with, rotten marks or not."

"How are you so calm?" said Genesis irritably, twisting around to look at Sephiroth. "You were tossing and turning all night, but now you're fine."

Sephiroth shrugged.

"I dunno, it just seemed to come to me," he said.

Hermione gave a smug smile.

"Told you the studying would work."

He would thank her after she stopped gloating. No need to bloat her ego even more. That, and Genesis was glaring something awful at him.

Every single question on the History of Magic exam seemed to answer itself. Sephiroth was started to get a little unnerved—he was fairly certain he didn't bother studying for History of Magic. Even with Hermione's insistence, it was so boring and unimportant to any career choices, he hadn't even tried. At yet he somehow knew all the answers. He almost missed when the bell rang and the exam ended, too busy staring at the parchment with a faintly disturbed expression. He was certain he know absolutely nothing about the first goblin discrepancies with the human wizards, and yet he had answered them all with confidence.

"It's OVER!" Ron bellowed, earning him several glares and a couple harsh _shhhs_. He ignored them, settling on grinning tiredly and ambling outside to the courtyard with them. "I thought I was going to die. It was so _boring_."

"A whole week of nothing," said Angeal with a smile.

"It sounds wonderful," Genesis admitted.

"Why don't we go over our papers?" suggested Hermione. "Maybe we can see if we got anything wrong."

"Do you want me to get sick?" said Ron. "No way, let's go down to the lake."

It was cooler near the lake, but only just, and when they collapsed onto the grass, they were still sweating profusely. Hermione had bunched her thick, bushy hair up off her neck and Ron was eyeing the lake's cold water as if he was tempted to jump in. Somehow, Genesis managed to look unaffected as ever in the intense heat, even with while still wearing the heavy Hogwarts uniform. Sephiroth felt like he might keel over from heat exhaustion. His hair was pulled away from his neck as well, but it wasn't helping much. Angeal wasn't faring any better, having left behind his robes and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

They might have been born with unusual, superhuman abilities, but those powers didn't extend to built-in coolant systems. Sephiroth would do anything for a Muggle air conditioning unit at the moment.

"I wish I knew what it means," Harry exploded, the heat seeming to only make him more irritable. "My scar keeps hurting—it's happened before, but never as often as this."

Hermione told him to go to Madam Pomfrey. Sephiroth wondered why she even tried, when Harry's obvious refusal came. None of them ever wanted to go to the hospital wing. Granted, none of them particularly wanted to stand up at the moment, either. (With the exception of Genesis, who still showed no signs of discomfort).

"I'm missing something," said Harry quietly, his hand lingering over his scar. "I'm forgetting _something_."

"Maybe you missed a question in the exams?" said Hermione blithely.

Sephiroth watched Harry closely. He wished he knew what Harry thought he might have forgotten, because it was bothering him this much, then it must be very important. As of late, the only things capable of working him up so much was talk of Voldemort and the Stone. Sephiroth couldn't imagine what they could have missed, though. They had discussed the subject to death over the course the passed few weeks.

Then Harry sprang off the ground and Sephiroth knew he had remembered.

"What is it?" he asked hurriedly.

"I've just thought of something. We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

Harry was already running in the direction of Hagrid's house. If it weren't for how urgent Harry seemed, Sephiroth might have whined at having to run in the intense summer heat. The others scrambled to catch up, and Genesis's eyes widened.

"Wait, you're not thinking—"

"It's a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket," said Harry. "How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?"

"So you're sure?" asked Genesis, alarmed.

"What are you talking about?!" Ron burst out, looking between the two of them. He was panting heavily. "I don't get it!"

"Just let them puzzle it out," grumbled Sephiroth. "They always do."

They found Hagrid reclining in the shade of his house, trying to keep as cool as possible. Since his house was just outside the shade of the Forbidden Forest, he seemed to be having an easier time of it than anyone else. He smiled when he saw them charging down the hillside.

"Hullo! Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

Ron was about to accept—Genesis verbally stomped over him.

"What did you and the stranger talk about?" he asked. "Do you remember? The one who gave you the egg?"

"Did you see his face?" Harry added.

"He wouldn' take his cloak off," said Hagrid thoughtfully. At their looks, he said, "It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head—that's the pub down in the village. . . . We talked abou' a good deal o' things, really. Nothin' in particular."

"Did Fluffy come up?" said Genesis. "You like to talk about your job as gamekeeper. Did you say anything about Fluffy?"

"Well—yeah—"

"And did he—did he seem interested in Fluffy?" said Harry with forced calm.

Sephiroth caught on and felt his stomach drop. Hagrid wouldn't have—he was prone to talking under flattery, as proven by Hermione, but surely he wouldn't have told anything to a random stranger. That would have been the height of foolishness.

"How many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet? Of course he was interested in Fluffy! So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down," said Hagrid. "Jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep—"

Hagrid did tell the stranger. Sephiroth wanted to bury his face in his hands.

" _You—_ " Genesis was cut off by Angeal before he could spout something that would likely be very insulting.

"We need to find the Headmaster," he said as they bolted back up the hill, Hagrid's shouts fading into the distance.

"I can't believe he—I mean I know he's gullible, but—" Genesis was nearly spitting angry. "Why did Dumbledore even trust him to something as important as defending the Stone in the first place?"

"Fluffy is a first level defense," said Angeal. "He's all big size and teeth—probably a deterrent more than anything."

"I guess that explains how Hagrid knows music," said Hermione.

Sephiroth remembered his ocarina, laying in his dormitory. He found it all too likely that Hagrid would learn music just to take care of a giant three-headed dog.

"Once he'd got Hagrid drunk, it must've been easy," said Harry. "I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if he's not stopped by those other centaurs. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

They came to a complete stop, staring down the corridors with a blank expression. Finding Dumbledore before had never been an issue—he always seemed to pop up all over the place, giving speeches during dinner, watching the Quidditch games, or warning them away from dangerous magical artifacts. Sephiroth had never realized how absent the Headmaster was from the everyday goings of Hogwarts, which made sense as he had duties to attend to, but made their job a lot harder. Now that they were actively looking for him, Dumbledore seemed to be more illusive than ever. Sephiroth was half tempted to try sniffing the Headmaster out. He had never tried something like that before, but the situation was so desperate he just might do it.

"Should we split up?" said Hermione.

"No way, haven't you ever watched a B-rated horror film?" said Sephiroth, giving her a look of incredulity.

"Have _you_?" said Harry, suddenly standing in front of him. "Who let you? That stuff's not for kids. Did Dudley make you watch it?"

"This is _not_ the time to go all older brother complex," snarled Genesis.

"What are you three doing inside?" came the terse voice of Professor McGonagall.

Harry and Ron's voices seemed to stall out, confronted with a professor. Any coherent thought Sephiroth might have been able to say fizzled out when he saw the displeased set of her mouth.

"Where's Professor Dumbledore's office?" asked Genesis impatiently.

They could always trust Genesis to never run out of things to say. Now if only he would be a little more polite, Sephiroth thought, as the scene unfolded.

"Why do you need to know?" asked Professor McGonagall, giving them a look full of suspicion.

Harry hesitated, clearly unsure of what to say. So, of course, Genesis plowed on.

"It's about the Sorcerer's Stone," he said nonchalantly.

Professor McGonagall dropped the books she was holding and didn't move to retrieve them, utterly shocked. For a second Sephiroth was sure he had seen a strand of her impeccably neat hair fall out place, but no—it was just his imagination. She was speechless for a whole ten seconds, struggling to manage a full sentence.

"How do you—"

"Someone's going to steal it," said Harry quickly. "I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

Sephiroth had a feeling they were only digging their graves deeper. Professor McGonagall's thought processes seemed to be looping back to "Students know about the Stone" over and over, instead of the fact it was about to be stolen.

"Professor Dumbledore is at the Ministry of Magic at the moment," she started, but Genesis rather boldly cut her off.

"That's convenient, he's gone the day exams end and everyone's too busy to pay attention," he said, ignoring the unhappy way Professor McGonagall's lips thinned, in what Sephiroth was sure was an attempt at suicide. She was going to kill him with detention and point loss. "He needs to be at the school, _now_."

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow—"

"But—"

McGonagall drew herself up and they all knew arguing was futile.

"That's quite enough about this," she said. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone—"

"It was Hagrid," said Genesis, shamelessly selling out their kindhearted friend.

" _Genesis!_ " hissed Harry and Angeal.

"Even so," she continued, although she seemed to have developed a twitch, "rest assured that no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected. Now, I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

Sephiroth had a feeling she mistook the word "enjoy" for "suffer." There was no way they could possibly enjoy that sun and she had to know it. Staying out there was nothing less than torturing themselves and it didn't take a genius to see that Harry had no intention of obeying her. If Sephiroth had to chose between braving the sun slowly baking the life out of his body, and facing a dangerous dark wizard, he would chose the latter any day.

As soon as McGonagall picked up her books and disappeared around the corner, they headed in the direction of the third floor corridor. Hermione seemed frustrated that McGonagall wouldn't believe them. They narrowly avoided Snape along the way—Sephiroth and Genesis pulled everyone out of his line of sight as he passed by.

"Someone should watch Snape," said Harry.

"What about Quirrell?" said Genesis.

Angeal lifted a hand, saying, "I'll find him."

"Hermione, you should follow Snape," said Ron.

"Why me?" she said.

"No, I'll do that," Genesis interrupted. "I'll be able to hear if someone's coming and hide. The rest of you watch the third floor corridors. Stick close to Sephiroth and don't get caught."

With that, the two of them disappeared down the corridor, leaving Sephiroth, Harry, Ron, and Hermione to the third floor. Not even half a minute later, Genesis barreled back into the corridor.

"Ron—go get Sephiroth's ocarina, just in case!"

Then he disappeared again.

"What was that about?" said Ron.

"I dunno, but you'd might as well do it," said Hermione. "I'm sure he's got a good reason."

"Perhaps in case we've got to get passed Fluffy?" said Harry darkly. "Worse case scenario."

Sephiroth didn't like where this was going. It sounded a lot like they wanted _him_ to lull the dangerous three-headed monster dog into sleep with music. He had taken lessons from Hagrid, but he certainly wasn't an expert at it, nor was he beyond a couple a few simple tunes. Ron left and came back with the ocarina in the space of a few minutes. He was breathing heavily, having run the entire stretch.

He didn't bother trying to tell him that running inside the school when they were supposed to be outside was a sure way to get caught. The important thing was that they stayed undetected.

Professor McGonagall came up the third corridor once to check the door Fluffy was behind, and they knew their warning had gotten to her at least on some level. With any hope, the professors would be a little more on edge than they were before. They hid behind the statues lining the corridor until she left, letting out sighs of relief when she didn't notice them. For a while they were somewhat relaxed.

That was, until Angeal came running into the corridor, his pale-faced and anxious.

"I couldn't find Quirrell," he said. "He's gone. I've already told Genesis—he's going to watch Snape a little longer, just to be sure, but—we need to look out. I think Quirrell might've been up to something the whole time."

"But I was so sure Snape was threatening him," said Harry.

"You might have missed something," said Sephiroth.

Minutes later, Genesis appeared, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"I swear he knew I was following him," he said. "Snape kept going in circles in the same area, over and over. And then he would stop abruptly and inspect certain paintings—he held a conversation that was _definitely_ forced with this safari painting for at least a half-hour, and there were no suits of armor or statues for me to hide behind. I had to hang off the stair's railing for a _half hour_."

"How are your arms still attached?" said Hermione.

"I thought I explained awhile ago they're superhuman," said Ron.

"So none of you could find Quirrell?" asked Harry.

Genesis and Angeal nodded solemnly.

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" he murmured, turning to look at the door. "Quirrell's either already in there or he's going to, soon. I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"What?!" Sephiroth shouted, before remembering to lower his voice. "Harry, that's—"

"You'll be expelled!" Hermione all but wailed.

"That's reckless," said Angeal, frowning.

"You could get hurt," Sephiroth added.

Harry whirled around them, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"SO WHAT?!" he roared. "Don't you understand? If Quirrell gets the Stone—if _Voldemort_ gets the Stone, he'll come back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from!"

"But, Harry," Sephiroth started, but he was cut off.

"No, Sephiroth—this isn't about me!" Harry swiped his arm through air, toward the door. "That Stone falls into Voldemort's hands, and it'll all be over. Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side!"

"We know that," said Genesis, calmer than they had ever seen him. "I agree with you. If we stand aside and do nothing—well, it's as though we've already lost."

"There's no way of knowing if Quirrell's already in there," argued Angeal.

"Either way, the Stone's safe," said Genesis. "The three of us can take Quirrel. The rest of you can get the Stone."

"All of us?" said Harry, doing a double-take. "We're all going?"

Sephiroth couldn't believe his ears.

"Did you really think we'd let you go by yourself?" he sighed. "You must have forgotten, but I won't let anything happen to you."

"So we're going in now?" asked Ron, looking far braver than Sephiroth had thought he would be. "Should we get the invisibility cloak?"

"No, we're already here," said Harry.

They stood right in front of the door. Sephiroth could hear Fluffy's growls and huffs from inside, heavy paws scraping against the floor. He was going to have to lull the dog to sleep, unless they wanted to wrestle it down. That would make too much noise, so using music would be faster and quieter, but he wasn't so sure in his skills all of a sudden, and they were relying on him. He had really only taken a couple lessons from Hagrid, who had taught him the basics, and there was no telling if that would be enough.

Harry reached out and grabbed the doorknob—and then paused, looking back at them.

"Are you sure you want to come? If you want go back, I won't bla—"

"Oh, enough of this," said Genesis impatiently, and kicked the door open. The others jumped back at hot air, rank with the smell of dog breath, roll out into the corridor. "Well, get to it, Sephiroth."

Sephiroth really, really wanted to punch him.

He stepped inside the room instead, almost jumping when Harry quickly followed him, and held the ocarina up to his lips. He had hardly played it more than a couple times, so he hoped Fluffy didn't have an ear for good quality music. Whether his music was good or not, Fluffy's movement started to settle, and within seconds he was asleep. Sephiroth shot the others a pointed glare.

"Don't stop," whispered Genesis, brushing passed him to move Fluffy's paws out of the way.

Angeal opened the trapdoor, peering hard into the darkness. They crowded around the opening.

"Do you see anything?" asked Harry.

"Nothing," said Genesis with a frown. "That's strange. We've got really good night vision."

"Well, it's completely cut off from all outside light sources," said Hermione swiftly. "No moon or sun, or even a torch. If there's no light, then even with good night vision, you'll be blind."

That was entirely unimportant. Sephiroth really wished they'd hurry up. He was starting to run out of songs to play.

"I'll go first," said Harry.

"No way," Genesis said. "Either me or Angeal should."

"But Voldemort wants me dead the most," protested Harry.

Sephiroth watched them in utter bemusement. This was _not_ the place to start arguing. He was starting to run out of breath, too. If they kept this up, he was going to falter and Fluffy might wake up. What if there was a limit to how many times they could put him out, or he became immune to Sephiroth's playing?

"We're a lot stronger than you," said Genesis.

"It was _my_ idea, though," Harry snapped.

Sephiroth, thoroughly fed up, marched behind Genesis. He didn't even notice, until Sephiroth planted his boot firmly between Genesis's shoulder blades and pushed. He went careening into the darkness with a horrified shout.

" _You son of a—_ "

The others stared at him, shocked. Sephiroth raised his eyebrows meaningfully, nodding at the trapdoor. They made a scramble to jump in before he kicked anyone else down. He nearly groaned with relief, stopped playing the ocarina, and leaped down through the trapdoor as Fluffy stirred.

From that moment on, everything went wrong.

* * *

 **A/N: And with that cliche end-but no, really. Shit is going down in the next chapter. Murphy's Law Day. Just a heads up...**

 **I just _barely_ got this chapter out in time, because I was moving all day yesterday and today... It was exhausting. Then there was no signal to my phone, so I couldn't even proofread with the app. But I managed, so all's good. Although that might happen again, so if a chapter update is late, 95% chance says that's the reason. (I RV full-time, so no steady home life for me!). **

**Also, I've had a recent obsession with Road Less Traveled by Lauren Alaina. It's been playing in my head. Over. And over. AND OVER again.**

 **Lotusballz: I'm glad Draco and Sephiroth's interaction turned out good... I'd suffered over it for a while before I felt like it was decent. XD And yes, there will definitely be more of it. Without going into spoilers, yeah it'll be really dark when he remembers. I'm honestly trying to keep the rating below M, but this is Sephiroth we're talking about. Blood and guts galore! (JK-mostly). ... Yeesh, when I had mine pulled, I was stoned for two weeks on pain meds. My brothers took advantage of my unusually happy mood to get me to play Mario Kart.**

 **Guest: I'm glad you liked it!**

 **Guest: ... Ask me no questions and I'll tell no spoilers. And Malfoy's fate was sealed the moment he let Sephiroth pick up his wand for him. XD**


	17. Chapter 17

16

Within a minute of dropping through the trapdoor, a plant was trying to kill them.

"What's this stuff?" asked Ron.

Sephiroth tried to pull his arms free—his first warning that something was wrong was the fact he couldn't. He pulled again and the grip on his arms tightened even further, cutting off the blood to his fingers. He opened his mouth to call out, but only choked as vines curled around his throat, turning his yell into a futile gasp for air. It was only a plant, so he could rip himself free, but there was _a lot_ of the plant. For ever vine he tore, ten more seemed to attack him.

If he had to guess, he would say this was probably Professor Sprout's handiwork. She seemed tame and kindly on the outside, but he knew she had a vicious streak somewhere inside her. The plant currently attempting to strangle him and pull his hair in five different directions proved that.

"Stop moving!" Hermione yelled. "I know what this is—it's Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," growled Ron.

"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!"

Sephiroth let out a yelp as the Devil's Snare gave a particularly nasty tug on his hair. His arms were going numb. The vines seemed to have labeled him as public enemy number one, because it was trying its hardest to wring his neck. Several thick vines, wider than Sephiroth's arms, coiled around his stomach. He tore through the vines around his neck—again—and thrashed against the ones at his waist. The devil's snare looped around his neck again.

"That's it!" snarled Genesis, hands lighting on fire. "I'm killing it with fire!"

"Yes! Of course," said Hermione frantically, looking around the room for something. "A fire! But there's no wood!"

Sephiroth lost some of his faith in Hermione's common sense at that moment. If he wasn't preoccupied ripping the vines away from his throat again, he would have yelled at her. Thankfully, Ron had more breath than he did.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD? ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

Genesis unceremoniously burst into flames—not just his hands, but his whole body. He stopped when the flames started burning through his clothing, but it did the trick. The vines curled away from him, blackened and singed, and he slipped free to the ground below.

Light from Genesis's fire flooded the room, flickering in deadly hot balls hovering above his palms. Sephiroth could now see Angeal, who had fallen apart from the rest of them, wrestling against a particularly thick vine. His moment of distraction cost him, and the devil's snare surged upward, catching his throat and winding around his arms and legs so tightly that he thought it might have left bruises. Now that he paid closer attention, there were little spines on the vines that were digging into his skin.

He saw Genesis pull his arm back, hand full of fire, and aim at him. Sephiroth found himself suddenly regretting kicking Genesis through the trapdoor earlier.

Sephiroth flinched away as the fire raged upward, closing his eyes in preparation for the deadly burn. When nothing but gentle warmth passed over him, he opened his eyes again. He saw a blur of heat distortions, the vines falling away in a barrage of reds and oranges and sparks of blue. The fire rolled beyond them, devouring the Devil's Snare, but leaving them entirely untouched.

He landed hard on the ground, gasping for breath and watching as the last flurries of Genesis's fire died away. It looked like millions of tiny fireflies in the darkness above.

"You should have seen your face," said Genesis, but the sincerity of his smile took away from the bite of his words. "I control my flames completely."

"Yeah," said Sephiroth, for lack of words. For the first time, fire had been beautiful.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology," said Harry, picking himself off the ground shakily.

"Yeah," said Ron dryly, "and lucky Genesis doesn't lose his head in a crisis—'there's no wood,' honestly."

Hermione flushed, refusing to look any of them in the eyes.

"No more jumping first, thinking later," said Angeal, rubbing his forehead.

"We were almost killed by a plant," grumbled Sephiroth.

"To be fair, it was a very deadly plant," said Hermione in an attempt to sooth their smarting pride.

"It was still a _plant_ ," said Angeal.

They didn't take long to catch their breath. Despite their brush with death so soon, none of them had forgotten the reason they descended into the trapdoor in the first place. With no other options available, Harry led them down a narrow stone passageway. It was much cooler down there than up in the castle, moisture dripping from the walls and puddling under their feet when the path dipped. The path started to take them lower into the ground, the air growing even colder.

Once a droplet landed on Ron's shoulder and he let out a startled shriek, which nearly deafened Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal. Their ears were ringing for the next five minutes. Genesis teased him viciously for it; apparently Ron had a deadly fear of spiders and he had thought the drop was an arachnid. That didn't convince Genesis to stop dropping random twigs on his shoulder and poking his back occasionally.

"This reminds me of Gringotts," said Sephiroth, his voice echoing down the tunnel.

Harry tensed slightly.

"You don't suppose there's dragons down here, do you?"

"How would they get a dragon down here?" asked Genesis, who almost instantly went back to being annoyed. He looked pale and tired, as if using his fire to such an extreme had taken a lot out of him. "This corridor isn't exactly huge."

"They could have raised it down here," Harry replied.

"It's too cold," said Sephiroth. "I doubt there are any dragons down here."

"Heads up, I hear something," said Angeal. "It almost sounds like hummingbirds or something. Or moths."

They shuffled forward a couple more steps, before the dark corridor started to flood with light from a chamber ahead. It took them a couple seconds to adjust to the sudden light, squinting their eyes like moles out of the ground. Harry, who was in front, nearly tripped over the raised and uneven floor of the chamber. A vaulted ceiling provided copious room for hundreds of glittering silver birds, flying in synchronized patterns.

"Are they dangerous?" said Ron warily.

"Probably," Harry replied swiftly. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once . . . well, there's no other voice. . . . I'll run."

"That's not necessary," said Genesis.

Angeal had already ambled to the other side of the chamber and was kneeling by the door. He fiddled with the lock for a couple seconds, and then with a small _click_ , the lock popped open. He gave them a thumbs up and they ran after him.

"Since when could you do that?" said Harry, impressed.

"You _pick locks?!_ " said Hermione, aghast. "What on earth do you need a skill like that for?"

Genesis gave her an ominously unreadable expression.

"Do you really want to know?"

Sephiroth had almost forgotten Angeal could do that. He remembered that knowledge being useful in unlocking the broom cupboard, and wondered what he had originally learned it for in the first place. Angeal wasn't the type who just learned something without a reason in mind.

"It was just so we could get into the broom shed," said Angeal, rolling his eyes at Genesis's dramatics. He turned the knob and the door opened smoothly.

"All—all because of _Quidditch?_ " Hermione looked utterly disgusted.

"Oi," protested Ron. "Quidditch is serious business."

"So is the Stone," said Harry, heading into the next room.

They were instantly blinded by light. Not the warm candlelight from the chamber before, but white light that beamed from several floating orbs above their heads. They were somewhat distracting, while they illuminated a floor cut out to look like a chessboard. Situated on the black and white spaces were the chessmen, each of them easily fifteen feet tall, faceless, and molded from solid stone. It was eerily quiet after the constant thrumming beat of small wings. None of them made a move, unwilling to break the uneasy silence.

"Now what do we do?" asked Harry thirty seconds later in a hushed whisper. He looked unnerved by the faceless chessmen.

"I think we're going to have to be chessmen," said Ron.

Genesis disagreed.

"We should just smash them up and get it over with," he said impatiently.

"That's not how you cross a chessboard," argued Ron. "And besides, what if they attack? Sure, the three of you are strong, but there's tons of them. They're bigger than you _and_ made of rock—can you really fight them all off?"

" _Yes_ ," said Genesis.

"He's got a point, Gen," said Angeal, eyeing the chessmen speculatively. "Ron, Harry, and Hermione can't fight them off, and I'm not certain we can defend them and defeat them all at the same time. We're at a disadvantage."

Harry looked unhappy with being labeled as weak, but Angeal's argument rang true.

"We don't have to play all the way through, right?" said Sephiroth. "Just take out enough to even the odds. We can take care of the rest."

"And that fire attack took more out of you than you're letting on," said Ron quickly. He was clearly eager to play a game of chess.

" _Fine_ ," snapped Genesis. "But at the first signs of you losing, I'm going to tear them to pieces."

Ron stepped up to the knight and placed his hand over the stony horse's flank.

"Do we—er—have to join you to get across?" he asked, and received a nod in return. Almost immediately, he started muttering to himself, studying the board closely, as if it would give up its secrets under intense scrutiny. "I suppose we've got to take the place of six of the black pieces. . . . But that doesn't leave much for sacrifice . . ."

He turned to them, blank-faced for several seconds, before he blinked and seemed to come back to reality.

"Now, don't be offended or anything, but none of you are that good at chess—"

"That was a _fluke—"_

"We're not offended," Harry interjected.

Sephiroth agreed wholeheartedly. The few times he had played chess with Ron, he had been soundly beaten. No matter how many times the strategy of the game was explained, he just couldn't wrap his mind around it. He didn't see the point of learning the strategy, but that might have something to do with the fact he could usually rely on his enhanced strength and speed, instead of tactics. That, and the chessmen never seemed to like him playing.

"Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you take the castle next to him," said Ron, glancing over at Genesis and Angeal. "Er—Angeal, you take the other rook. Genesis, you can be the other bishop. Sephiroth . . ."

"Make him a pawn," said Genesis with a snicker that did not befit their predicament.

"You—" Sephiroth scowled, but cut himself off when Ron's eyes lit up.

"Ah! Sephiroth, you take the queen."

Genesis snorted.

"The queen?" said Sephiroth, twitching slightly.

"I need at least one of the other pieces free," said Ron.

"But doesn't the king not move around much?" said Harry hopefully.

"I'll take the queen," grumbled Sephiroth before they could try to shelve him away from anything remotely dangerous.

After they were done figuring out their places, the chessmen in question marched off the board, leaving the spaces clear for them. They took their spots on the board, Sephiroth playing the part of queen (he was beyond caring by now), with Harry on his left and Genesis on the other side of the king to his right.

"White always plays first in chess," murmured Ron, as a white pawned was moved two spaces. With that, he launched into the game, pale-faced and shaking slightly.

Sephiroth was gobsmacked when their first piece was taken—not by the fact it was taken, but from the brutality showed by the white pieces. The white queen performed a perfect full-body smack down, flipping their knight head over heels and crunching his face against the floor. She dragged him off the board, tossing him to lay in one corner of the room.

"Who thought it was a good idea to enchant these menaces with martial arts techniques?" asked Genesis, even more foul-tempered after watching the knight broken.

"Had to let that happen." Despite his words, Ron was wide-eyed. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."

Before long, most of their pawns were gone and Ron was hurriedly trying to save the others from sharing a similar fate. Sephiroth had a feeling their presence made the game much harder. If was just Ron, he would have only himself to worry over, but he was trying very hard to ensure they weren't face-planted into the chess board by the opposite side. On top of that, he still needed to take out as many of the white chessmen as possible, so that if came to a battle, they would have a better of chance of winning. It was something of a lose-lose situation.

"Just calm down and think things through," said Angeal calmly. "Worst comes to worse, I'm sure we can take them all."

Sephiroth eyed the white pieces. Since the game started, their numbers had thinned out, so he was probably right. Genesis must have thought the same, because he suggested yet again that they just fight them right then and there.

The game progressed and Sephiroth started to note a pattern. He was on the other side of the board, having taken out the opposite side's bishop, knight, and a couple pawns. Ron was directly in the line of the white queen, while keeping the king in check. If what Sephiroth thought he saw was right, then they were going to have to step in.

"I've got to be taken," Ron announced quietly. His fists were clenched, face set in hard resolve.

"To hell with this," snarled Genesis.

He lunged forward, his fiery fist smashing through the head of one of the white pawns—and pandemonium broke out. Instantly, the white pieces surged toward them, sweeping various weapons that had only seemed for show a few moments ago. Angeal made a jump for Harry, Hermione, and Ron, shoving them out of the way of several pawns, while Genesis tore through the white's other knight and bishop.

Sephiroth avoided a fist, swerved to avoid a gray-toned stone spear that whistled through the air sharply, and punched straight through the torso of the white side's queen. The only problem was that he had forgotten one key factor in their battle, to which his back was turned. Sephiroth's only warning was the blur of a dark shadow, before a black rook clobbered the back of his head hard enough to make his ears ring.

He careened forward and it was a miracle he managed to stay conscious, but was too stunned to avoid the heavy foot of the white king. Whether it was because of the fact the chessmen were made of pure stone, or that they were enchanted to be incredibly strong, he didn't know—but the foot seemed to crush him, the ground crumpling under his body. He was pinned for a whole five seconds, his ribs straining under the pressure, unable to _breathe—_

Genesis kicked the king and ruthlessly tore his arms off.

Sephiroth took the chance to dive away from the thrall, launching himself at the white knight. That was when he noticed the pieces that had been taken out during the game started to move. Rubble from when they'd been smashed up rolled over the ground, congregating around the fallen chessmen, and building themselves back together.

He turned in time to see the white king being made whole again by magic.

"Oh, this isn't going to work," said Angeal, going pale.

Hermione was hiding behind him, absolutely terrified. She looked as though she might faint.

"We should have let the queen take me!" hissed Ron.

"It's a little too late for th—"

Angeal ducked a stony arm and kicked the pawn hard enough to send it flying into several of its comrades, breaking into pieces.

"Just head for the door!" shouted Harry, already making to move toward it.

Genesis grabbed Ron and Hermione, shoving them forward, and Sephiroth was quick to follow. Unfortunately, so were the chessmen. They piled after them, shoving through the doorway on the other side of the room, and Sephiroth was so distracted by them he almost didn't notice the putrid smell coming from the new chamber. The smell was very familiar, although the marble-skinned and lumpy shaped mountain troll was at least three times larger than the last one.

They didn't wait around to see if it was awake or not, too busy running from the army of giant chessmen. Harry and Ron scrambled over the troll's legs, which snorted loudly before letting out a long snore. As he ran by, Sephiroth noticed a rather nasty wound on the troll's forehead and realized, with a sinking feeling, that someone had already come by. He hoped it wasn't Quirrell or Snape.

Sephiroth felt one of the chessmen clip his back—he whirled around, grabbing the smaller pawn by its arm and leg, and hurled it bodily at the others. Hopefully the distraction would give them more time to run.

Harry frantically yanked the next door open and they nearly fell through the entrance, stumbling into a plain, circular room. Purple flames roared to life behind them, cutting off the exit. They scrambled away from the door, even as black fire burned ahead of them, watching the doorway closely. Sephiroth noticed the lines of bottles in the center of the room and figured it was Snape's defense. He just hoped those flames would be enough to hold off the chessmen, because he couldn't fight off an enemy that instantly repaired itself forever.

The first chessmen stepped through and instantly crumbled into ashes. Despite the deadly show of the flames' powers, they let out sighs of relief. The other chessmen were quick to follow the first, obviously not enchanted to tell when they were in danger.

"That was horrible," whimpered Hermione.

"I think that was worse than the troll on Halloween," said Ron, looking very dazed. "If you'd just let me take the hit, we could have avoided that."

"Next time, I'll let you get smacked," muttered Genesis, nursing a rapidly coloring bruise on his arm. "Whoever put that trap there was a sadist, through and through."

Now that Sephiroth was allowed a moment to calm down, he could appreciate how much his stomach hurt. He might have even broken a couple ribs when the white king stepped on him, judging from the way breathing was incredibly painful. He felt as though he had been chewed up by a rock monster and then spat out again, or perhaps played a game of tag with centaurs.

"Are you okay?" asked Harry, looking him over worriedly. "You got hit pretty bad."

"I'll heal," he said automatically.

"What's that?" asked Ron, looking over where Hermione was picking up a long piece of parchment.

Her forehead was creased in a frown as her eyes skimmed it, before her face relaxed into a smile. Then she opened her mouth and read aloud:

" _Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind—"_

"Clearly this person doesn't know about the chessboard," said Genesis.

" _Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,_ " Hermione went on without pausing.

" _One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

 _Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

 _Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

 _Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line._

 _Choose, unless you wish to say here forevermore,_

 _To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

 _First, however slyly the—"_

"Or we can just sniff out the poison," said Genesis. "And the wine. That would leave the potions for going forward and back."

"That's a lot easier than figuring out a riddle," Sephiroth agreed.

"I have nothing against the riddle, it's pure genius," said Genesis, "really shouldn't have expected anything less from Snape. But we're on a time crunch here."

Hermione sighed, but relented.

"Just don't move the bottles from their spaces," she warned. "Just in case."

"Yeah, yeah," said Genesis.

Sephiroth ended up finding the poisons and wine, his sense of smell having always been sharper. That left a very tiny bottle, and a round one.

"Which does which?" he asked.

Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes and waving the parchment in the air. She had been reading it over and over since he started scent-testing the bottles.

"That's what _this_ is for," she said imperiously. It seemed she was glad to have a chance to contribute. "Just give me a couple more seconds, I'm almost there."

The parchment seemed to have piqued Genesis's interest.

"Let me take a look," he said.

"No need," Hermione replied briskly. She set the parchment on the shelf full of potions and pointed to the round and tiny bottles in turn. "The round one sends us back. The small one will send us forward."

"That was fast," commented Angeal, looking impressed.

Hermione seemed almost flustered.

"It was just simple logic," she said quickly. "Nothing spectacular. Lots of really good wizards don't have any logic, so they would have been stuck here forever."

"Lucky you're here, then," said Harry with a grin.

"No kidding," said Ron, looking at the riddle. "The words are English, but that's just about it."

"Someone should drink the potion to go back," said Angeal, nodding toward the round bottle, "and get a professor. Preferably Dumbledore, but if he's not back, send an owl to fetch him and then go to Flitwick. He'll listen to us more than McGonagall, hopefully."

"Only one of us can go forward, too," said Ron grimly. "You saw what that fire did to the chessmen. We don't want to end up a pile of ashes."

Hermione looked rattled at the reminder. Sephiroth stared at the mounds of ash uncomfortably. That fire, whatever it was, had burned straight through whatever enchantments made the chessmen build themselves back together. While it had been a lifesaver at first, now they were left knowing they were trapped in something even deadlier than chess room.

"Hermione, you should get Dumbledore," said Angeal. "Go with Ron, if there's enough of the potion for both of you."

She looked as though she might protest for a moment, but she must have decided it wasn't worth the effort. After being friends with them, she had probably learned when arguments were a lost cause. There was only enough of the potion for one person, so Hermione darted through the flames alone to send an owl after Dumbledore and fetch a professor. Neither of them liked the risk of sending her back where the chessman had been, but the piles of ash hadn't moved an inch.

All that was left was the single bottle of potion that would allow them to move forward. Yet again, there was only enough for one person.

"It's got to be me," said Harry, far more confident than Sephiroth thought he should have been, considering who they might be up against. "I'll go through."

"What? No!" Sephiroth protested immediately. "Why do you keep volunteering yourself?"

"I haven't done much, I'm better off than you three," said Harry, looking at Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth in turn. "Plus, you're injured from the chessmen."

"We heal _really_ fast," Sephiroth started, but Harry wouldn't hear any of it.

"I'm not going to rely on you three getting injured and healing over and over!" he snapped, growing frustrated. "I don't want to be weak, or helpless. I'm _not_. And if it's Voldemort—well, I was lucky once, wasn't I? I might get lucky again."

Sephiroth wondered what part of having his entire family hunted down and murdered by a dark lord before his second birthday counted as luck. There was nothing lucky about it, as far as he was concerned, and he wasn't about to let Harry walk into a what was definitely a trap.

"Luck?" laughed Genesis, a humorless sound. "Are you insane? You want to rely on _luck?_ Since when were we ever _lucky_?"

He motioned around at the room, giving a mockery of a smile that didn't belong on his face.

"What about any of this is lucky? We're _first years_ , we're supposed to be _children_ , and here we are, trying to save the world! None of this is normal, or lucky, at all!"

"Genesis," said Angeal, but he was ignored.

"And behind that fire could be anything," Genesis went on. "Quirrell, Voldemort, another trap— _anything_. And you want to go through?"

Sephiroth felt as though he should be stepping in, or doing something. Of all of them, he was the strongest. Obviously he should have been the one going forward. Harry and Genesis were face to face, looking close to blows.

"I'm going through," said Harry firmly. His eyes looked like green fire behind his glasses. "You can't stop me. This is _my_ fight."

"You're—" Genesis started.

A myriad of emotions flitted across his face, from shock to anger, and back to surprise again.

"You're—" He started again, but stopped with a hiss of annoyance. "You've got _five minutes._ Then I bust in, fire or no fire."

" _What_?" exclaimed Sephiroth. "No!"

"Thanks," said Harry, avoiding his eyes.

" _Harry_ ," said Sephiroth, feeling a rare spark of true anger. This was insane, irrational—Harry was normal, just as Genesis said, and it would be far more realistic to send himself through the fire. His ribs were hurting a little, but the throbbing had already faded.

Harry sighed, the bottle held close to his chest, as if he was afraid someone might take it. He was probably right to have precaution, otherwise Sephiroth just might have snatched it away. Sending Harry, only Harry, through that fire was pure idiocy. He could be tortured, killed. Genesis was right—why would some of the most unluckiest beings in the world rely on luck?

"Ha—" Sephiroth began, but Harry wouldn't let him get a word across.

"For once, just let me be your older brother," said Harry quietly. "Stop trying to be stronger, stop trying to protect me. Because one day, I'm going to be stronger than you. I dunno how, but I'll be strong enough to protect you, for sure."

It was laughable to think that he would become that strong, _it wasn't even possible_ , but—Sephiroth was too surprised to react when Harry gulped the potion down at once. He was jolted out of his stupor when Harry turned toward the black fire. Angeal grabbed his shoulder when he moved to stop Harry and Genesis wouldn't meet his eyes. They had all gone _mad_.

Quietly, with all too little ceremony, Harry slipped through the black flames, out of their sight.

"This is _mad,_ you're all _insane_ ," Sephiroth burst out. The buzzing in the forefront of his skull, which had just been a minor annoyance in the past, was getting more and more distracting. "We should have stopped him!"

"What were you going to do?" asked Genesis. "Tie him down?"

Sephiroth remembered he had made that threat once. He really might do it.

"He wouldn't have listened to reason," said Angeal. "Like it or not, he felt this was his responsibility. We . . . have to honor that."

Sephiroth wanted to protest—would have protested, if he didn't feel so angry. He didn't get angry often, it was usually mild annoyance at Genesis, or their schoolwork, but this was different. It was potent, it was venomous, a kind of white noise that drowned out his thoughts and it almost scared him.

"We'll wait a couple minutes," said Genesis. "If someone already went through, that means the potion refills itself."

"Harry took the bottle with him," said Angeal regretfully.

Genesis blinked, turned back to the shelf, and then let out a particularly nasty curse. Angeal, who was just as frustrated, didn't even bother to scold him.

"That little _fox_ ," snarled Genesis. " _Snake_. Whichever. Why wasn't he sorted into Slytherin again?"

The buzzing was turning into something heavier and murky, so loud that Sephiroth could hardly hear them. There was dread rising inside of him, the kind the churned in his stomach with a haunting, knowing feeling of something going terribly wrong. He couldn't stand still, or wait for the others to think of some way to cross the flame barrier. Sephiroth needed to get through that fire and he needed to do it _now_.

 _Something horrible was about to happen._

He moved too fast for them to stop him. Genesis hardly had enough time to shout at him, to warn him to stop—that even he didn't have enough strength for something like this—and Sephiroth ignored him. He had always been rather good at that.

Sephiroth braced his feet against the ground, and then _leaped_. The floor cracked from the force of his jump, the air whistling in his ears. For a short, precious second, the wind was too loud for him to hear the buzzing, the pressure in his mind, and he could think clearly. He wondered in that single second, _what had he just done?_

Then he was falling, having leaped clean over the barrier of fire, a good thirty feet into the air. He twisted round, resembling a cat, and managed to land neatly on his feet. That had to be up near the top of the Craziest Things Sephiroth Has Done list that he knew Harry had to be keeping around somewhere.

He didn't have time to wonder how he did it—because while he was strong and fast, he had never been able to jump so high before—as he noticed what was right in front of him.

Harry was bound from the neck down in chains, standing awkwardly in front of the Mirror of Erised. For a moment, Sephiroth was frozen by the sight of the mirror, already seeing his family there—the man with a solemn face and crimson eyes, giving him something that might have been a smile of welcome. He just managed to tear his eyes from the mirror. It was incredibly fitting that the Sorcerer's Stone, capable of unending wealth and life, was guarded by a magical artifact that showed delusions of the thing the viewer wanted most.

Professor Quirrell stood in front of the mirror, which was much less of a surprise. They had pretty much already figured out that the perpetrator was Quirrell, although they kept Snape on their minds as a just-in-case scenario.

"Ah, Sephiroth," said Quirrell, but something wasn't right. It wasn't Quirrell's mouth that was moving.

For Sephiroth, it was all too obvious why Quirrell seemed to be talking without moving his mouth.

"You're one of those puppet guys?!" said Sephiroth, pointing at him in surprise. "A venque-sist something-or-other!"

"Ventriloquist," corrected Quirrell, ever the dutiful professor.

"Yeah, that."

Harry coughed, his eyebrows raised as if to ask _What are you thinking?_ And _Get me out of here right now_. Although, the last one might have just been Sephiroth's own projection of thought.

"No, I'm not a ventriloquist," said the disembodied voice, which most definitely didn't belong to Quirrell. "Although . . . a puppet master, I just may be."

Sephiroth moved closer to Harry, reaching for his wand to free him—

"Don't move, Sephiroth," said the voice, and something about the way his name was spoken put a chill down his spin. It was as though the voice was tasting the name, rolling it around in his mouth. Not pleasant. "I had wondered if you would come. I suppose it's rather obvious, Harry being your brother."

"Who are you?" said Sephiroth. " _Where_ are you?"

He couldn't sense anyone else in the room. Granted, the static in his mind wasn't helping him at all.

"Seph . . ." whispered Harry. He was white-faced, staring at Quirrell fixedly. "It's _him_."

"I don't under . . ." Sephiroth's voice trailed off, suddenly understanding and wishing just as quickly that he didn't.

Quirrell turned—and there was a face on the back of his head. The skin was molded smoothly, as if the face was supposed to be there, bent and unnatural contours of a facial structure protruding from the back of Quirrell's shaven head. The face was moving, expressions flickering across it, and somehow that was even more disturbing than the fact there was a _face_ on the back of Quirrell's _head_. Bloody red eyes, unnatural and cold and nothing like the man in the Mirror of Erised, stared at him. The face— _Voldemort—_ looked delighted.

 _There's a face on your head_ , Sephiroth wanted to say, but his mouth seemed to be glued shut.

"So long . . . you're only a child . . ." A tongue flicked out to wet his lips—Sephiroth felt sick. "You were _great_ once."

He felt sick. _He felt sick_. Sephiroth didn't know what he wanted to do—run, fight, grab Harry and _get out of there—_ but he couldn't move. He _couldn't move_ , why couldn't he move?

"You can . . . be great again," said Voldemort, as if the words were supposed to mean something important, and Sephiroth had a feeling they did. But he couldn't think at the moment, blinded by unfamiliar emotions that were choking inside of him. He couldn't put a name on them, but they were powerful and dominating. "All you need is . . . _her_. That power . . . the will of Je—"

Sephiroth thought the emotions might have been pure, inundating hatred.

He never felt his body move, never remembered when it happened. The world seemed to sharpen, while the edges blurred, the ground surer under his possessed feet. He wasn't moving his body, but his arm was raised and there was something shifting under his palm.

Harry called out for him—he tried to answer, but couldn't move his mouth. It was fixed in a deadly snarl.

Wispy tendrils of green wove through his fist, filling out into a cold, steel hilt, covered in strips of leather. Sephiroth had never held a sword before in his life, so it shouldn't have felt so familiar. The haunting melody of the blade _singing_ as it moved shouldn't have sounded just right, a long slip of quicksilver that glided through the air. He didn't own a sword, never had, it had no name, and yet—

 _Masamune_.

It belonged. ( _Belonged to whom?_ )

Sephiroth watched the blade arc, forming a crescent, and he didn't hesitate. His body didn't stop, his mind wouldn't shut down, his eyes couldn't stop seeing.

As he cut Quirrell apart—

head from body—

limb from limb.

And bathed the world in blood.

* * *

 **A/N: ...So yeah, Quirrell's in pieces. But I just had to introduce the Masamune in some way, shape, or form, right? Ok, that wasn't the only reason Sephiroth lost it. Feel free to psychoanalyze. XD**

 **I kind of downplayed the SOLDIERs' abilities a lot (honestly, at their best, they could have easily taken on the chessmen), but I thought it was important to stress the fact they're really only kids right now. With no memory of their previous life, or inclination to become especially talented at fighting.**

 **ALSO, I've FINALLY finished writing year one! There's two more chapters for the first year, before I'll be moving onto year two. However, I will be taking a break from updating for about two weeks... mostly so I can stockpile chapters for year two and get the plot in order. I'm still up in the air with the name (I agonize over names), but it'll probably be Edelweiss. I spent WAY too much damn time researching flowers looking for a name for Lotus not to use that knowledge. That, and I have fond memories of the song Edelweiss from the Sound of Music, and the story behind it is pretty interesting. ... Unless I decide to keep the first couple years in Lotus. ... I am so damn indecisive. (I've actually got names for all seven years. -.- That I may or may not use.)**

 **Lotusballz: Yeah, well they've become a little used to weird things by now. XD I hope the misfortune in this chapter lived up to the expectations!**

 **Guest: I'm glad you liked it! :D**

 **Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews! Till next week!**


	18. Chapter 18

17

Sephiroth woke alone.

At least, he was certain he was alone for about ten seconds, before he eased his body into movement and sat up. He expected pain, a headache maybe, or that incessant buzzing to return and deafen him. Instead, he felt lucid and energized, as if he had taken a long nap after a tiring class. He thought the world might have been perfect if he stayed in that half-awake state, where nothing was entirely clear and he didn't quite remember the past three hours.

Except reality had to come and the dream had to end, and he remembered. Sephiroth remembered and saw, for the first time, exactly what the chamber around him looked like. It wasn't the dormitory, or the common room, or even the Hospital Wing, which would have been preferable. He hadn't moved an inch, still laying in the same place he had passed out onto.

The flames from the room full of potions was still flaring high. Too high, perhaps, for Genesis and Angeal to jump over. Sephiroth was stuck on the other side with—no one. There was no one, barring what remained of Quirrell.

Sephiroth twisted around, frantic and horrified, hoping for a fleeting second that it was a nightmare. But he felt awake, he knew it wasn't a dream, and his hands were covered in _so much blood_. He felt that twisting, gut-wrenching and dreadful comprehension that it was _real_. It was in front of him, had happened, _wasn't going away_ , and it wasn't ever going to go away. It took Sephiroth only three seconds to remember he had lost all control and murdered a man.

He didn't know how much longer it would take him to accept it.

The palm of his hand slipped when he tried to push himself to his feet and he collapsed back. With startling detachment, he wondered if it was because he didn't really want to stand up. There was blood in his hair, curling in a puddle, because the human body had a _lot_ of blood in it, and Quirrell had lost it all. And all his blood seemed to have congregated around Sephiroth.

If he looked around, he might have seen more, witnessed exactly what he did to another human being in a fit of—something—but he didn't. Sephiroth wasn't a masochist and he didn't often face his problems head on. Sometimes he wondered how he was sorted into the house of the brave, when he had become such a coward. There was a saying that when a person was put into a desperate situation, they discovered their true self. He thought it was more accurate that when desperation came, a person found they could become something not quite human.

Sephiroth sat in the midst of his own destruction and realized, in the face of danger, he had turned into a monster. He had been unable to control himself, his body had moved without his permission, and a true monster had awakened inside of him. _A true monster_.

"Brother...?" he whispered, almost out of habit.

He couldn't see Harry.

Terror gripped him and he rushed to his feet in a flurry of movement, dripping and nearly tripping over—something that he didn't look at. He didn't know where Harry had gone, or what had happened to him after he lost control. He wouldn't have hurt Harry, his brother, the _only_ family he ever knew. Even if he had become a monster in that instant, he surely wouldn't have, but he couldn't see anything beyond the color of death.

"Harry?" he cried out, stumbling across the chamber and passing the Mirror of Erised—he barely gave his family a glance, half-numb with horror and fear. "Where are you?!"

He saw the small figure of his brother, laid on the ground in unconsciousness, outside of the mess that Sephiroth had created. The blood didn't extend as far as Sephiroth thought, but his mind was stained in the color red and he couldn't see passed the ocean he had carved out for himself.

Sephiroth collapsed to his knees by Harry, shaking his shoulder repeatedly.

"Harry? Harry, wake up. Harry!"

He rested his head against Harry's chest, listening for the steady _thump-thump-thump._ He was relieved to hear it, but Harry wouldn't wake. There wasn't a twitch of movement and Sephiroth, even with his sharp eyes, had to look closely to see the raise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It appeared Harry wouldn't be waking up anytime soon, which didn't inform Sephiroth if he had done something after he blacked out.

What if he had hurt his own brother?

"Harry, please wake up," he almost whimpered. "I did something really bad. _Wake up!_ "

The flames suddenly went out. Sephiroth looked up, eyes widened and reaching for his wand, but found nothing. His wand was missing. There was a tall silhouette stepping out of what was left of the flames, flickering slightly in the back and giving off a dull, purple light. Sephiroth caught the flash of metal and his heart dropped, gripping Harry and pulling away. He could imagine a blade slicing through the dim light, seeking their lives in retribution for the horrific thing he had just done.

Professor Albus Dumbledore stepping into the chamber. He took in the scene, the bloody Quirrell lying in shambles and covered in his own bodily fluids; Sephiroth hunched over his brother's unconscious form, in an equal state of mess, lacking the injuries and death.

The stubborn twinkle in Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed to fade, just a little. His face grew solemn and he stepped closer—Sephiroth tensed.

"I didn't mean to," were the first words out of his mouth, incriminating and hopeless. There was no way the Headmaster would believe him. He was a freak surrounded by the body of his enemy—who would believe him? "I just—I wanted—Harry was in danger, and I—I just _moved_ and I couldn't—"

Dumbledore raised a hand before Sephiroth could painfully stammer through anymore excuses.

"Calm yourself," said Dumbledore gently. "What is important is that you and your brother are safe. The full tale can be saved for a later time—preferably after you have both spent some time under Madam Pomfrey's expert care."

"I killed him," said Sephiroth, desperately getting it out because Dumbledore _needed_ know. He needed to be taken care of, someone needed to do something, before he snapped again. There was something wrong with him. "I killed him."

"Yes," said Dumbledore, looking much older than he had only a day ago. "We shall face that later."

"I kil—"

"Sephiroth," Dumbledore interrupted, long strides carrying him across the chamber to Sephiroth's side. He laid a hand on Sephiroth's small, bloodied shoulder. "You have gone through a long, trying day. You need rest and healing—and then you can face your troubles. Until then, be calm."

But Sephiroth didn't feel calm and he didn't want to face it later. He didn't want to face it all, except he couldn't run away, either. Not from this. Especially not from this.

"What am I?" he asked.

"A boy in need of a good night's sleep," said Dumbledore wryly. He gave Sephiroth's head a pat, mindless of what he was getting all over his own hand, and smiled. "Now why don't we get young Harry to Madam Pomfrey?"

It wasn't until they were passed the chessboard room that Sephiroth remembered the others. He let out a small gasp, turning to look at Dumbledore with the question already on his lips.

"Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley arrived safely to the Owlery and are the reason I hastened here," said Dumbledore, as if reading his mind. "I sent Mr. Genesis and Mr. Angeal back to the Gryffindor common room, unharmed but very concerned, I might add."

"I'm sorry," said Sephiroth, and it wasn't the first time he had uttered it since they left the last chamber.

Dumbledore didn't reply and neither of them said a word, not even after they entered the Hospital Wing. After that, Madam Pomfrey swiftly and not unkindly kicked the Headmaster out of her hospital. She clucked over Harry for a couple minutes, before deciding that all he needed was some sleep and he would be right as rain. Sephiroth on the other hand—she fussed over him for the better part of an hour. He consumed at least three different potions, before she sent him to wash up.

After returning, he was confined to bed and Madam Pomfrey spent another hour brushing the tangles and gnarls out of his hair. He didn't say anything, didn't open his mouth even once, afraid of what might come out. All that he could see was blood, the feeling of powerlessness as his will was stolen away. It was as though he was experiencing it over and over _and over_ again in his head. No matter how hard he tried not to think about it, Quirrell's expression the moment before he died, he couldn't stop. It kept looping around, torturous and slow, as if his own mind was tormenting him.

Madam Pomfrey poured him another potion and told him to drink up.

"Breathe deeply now," she said quietly. "Even, deep breaths."

He didn't know what steady breathing would do for him, but he followed her example.

"Really now, you foolish, reckless boy," said Madam Pomfrey, no real scolding in her tone. She pulled him into her arms and he went rigid, because no one who wasn't Harry had ever hugged him, and it was foreign. "You'll be giving me a heart attack one of these days, mark my words."

Sephiroth slowly relaxed, warmer and a little calmer than before. He didn't feel trapped or enclosed. There was every bit of Madam Pomfrey's no-nonsense care and kindness in her gesture, her unflappable personality that made her such an efficient medic. It was the first time an adult had ever shown him any kind of physical affection—and Sephiroth thought this might be what it felt like to have a mother.

He didn't remember falling asleep, finding himself standing in his inner world for a third time. Maybe it was his imagination, but the golden grasses seemed a little fuller, richer in color as opposed to the deadened pale brown from the last time he visited. The pine sapling had grown as well, nearly as tall as Sephiroth, with fresh, bright green needles.

The girl was waiting for him, no hiding games or speaking out of no where. She was solemn, her hands clasped in front of her. Sephiroth realized that even though the others didn't seem upset with him, she might be disappointed where they were not.

"I . . ." his voice trailed off, unable to think of a single thing to say. He wanted to apologize, but he didn't have the heart, which was frustrating. After what happened (what he did), he needed to say something, and he didn't understand why apologizing felt so insincere. He was full of regrets, overridden and possessed by them, and yet—

"There's no need to look so grim," she said, and her face broke into a small smile. She looked a little sad, but not in the depressed kind of way. He couldn't put a name to her expression at the moment. "You . . . passed an important test."

"Passed a test?" blurted Sephiroth, all trains of thought derailed. He didn't remember a test. "What?"

"You had to face yourself in that chamber," she said gently. "And you came out of it with your mind and will intact. You passed."

"Face . . . myself?" he repeated, feeling like a parrot, but he was even more confused than he had been the other times he spoke with her. And that was saying something. "I didn't . . ."

He remembered pure, raw fury, uncontrollable and possessive. It had gripped him and he hadn't escaped—not until he had killed Quirrell.

"I didn't pass anything," he said tightly. "I . . . I lost myself in there. That wasn't me. That was some kind of _monster_."

"It was your own anger," said the girl softly.

"I'm not angry!" Sephiroth burst out. "I don't feel angry like that! It was . . ."

" 'It was' . . .?" said the girl, and for the first time, she was the curious one.

"I felt so furious, so much hatred," he said, looking down at his hands (he could still picture them, spattered crimson). "But I also felt . . . not sadness, it was different. It was like—grief. As if I was depressed."

He dragged his hands over his face, pulling on the hair at his temples.

"I don't understand any of it," he said desperately. "How can someone feel grief and hatred towards one thing at the same time?"

"Towards one thing . . ." murmured the girl, looking thoughtful. Then she shook her head, offering him a wry smile. "You would be surprised. Anger and sadness tend to go hand-in-hand. Yours more than most. But, you still managed to hold onto yourself, even after taking the full force of all your hatred."

Sephiroth had a feeling the girl wasn't actually hearing what he said.

"I didn't control myself!" he said. "I _killed_ someone! How is that managing my hatred? How is that okay?!"

Professor Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey—they had all treated what he did like it was perfectly fine. As if they didn't care someone was dead, that he had _killed them_ with his own two hands. He didn't feel like it should be alright, even though Quirrell was trying to revive Voldemort, and that Voldemort was actually latched onto the back of his head. Everything was confusing and he wanted someone to make it make sense for him.

"The Stone was kept safe. Your brother is safe. All the people who might have died if Voldemort was revived to his full power will live another day of freedom," said the girl. "No one can decide if what you did was right or not. You will have to make that decision for yourself, and whether or not you will move on."

She sighed, looking almost fondly at him.

"You're full of conflict, I can see that well enough. I suppose you always have been."

If that last statement didn't have double meanings, Sephiroth would fast from all meals for two weeks.

"I've refrained from telling you a lot," she admitted. Then she added with a sheepish smile, "Well, everything, actually. But now I'm sure you can learn the truth—at least some of it."

Sephiroth prepared himself for a long, grueling conversation that he would probably only halfway understand and be left to ponder for seven years.

"You are a reborn soul."

 _What?_

At his startled expression, she gave out a laugh.

"I expected something a little different," she explained after he threw her a confused, annoyed look. "You're an old soul in every meaning of the term, with a lifetime of memories you've yet to access. I understand this is probably a lot for you to process, though."

"You don't say," said Sephiroth blankly. He had expected a lot of things, from alien abduction to—well, mostly alien abduction, really.

"You're fragile," said the girl sadly, as if she was looking at a piece of glass. "Your body might have been made strong, but—I'm afraid your heart can only take so much. That you felt the anger and sadness from your previous life, and still stand here as yourself . . . It's a feat. But I suppose I really shouldn't be surprised."

"So I'm . . . reborn?" said Sephiroth, unsure how to take the information. "What does that even mean? How was I— _why_ was I reborn? Wait, are all humans reborn? But then why are you telling me? Am I supposed to remember my past life? Wouldn't that mess up the balance of . . . of something important?"

"Contrary to what a lot of comic books and movies will have you believe," said the girl, and Sephiroth had the decency to look contrite, "the world's not hardly as likely to freak out as you would think. She's strong."

And now the world had a gender. Sephiroth wanted to go somewhere else, where things made sense. It didn't escape his notice that now that he had answers, he no longer wanted them.

"As for why . . . I'm not sure it's my story to tell," she said apologetically. "There is another, whose fate has always been closely entwined with yours . . . I believe it would better to hear it from him, rather than me."

"Am I the only one?" he asked quickly, as the thought struck him. "What about the others? My brother and Genesis and Angeal . . . what about all of them?"

"Genesis and Angeal have also be reborn, but they have no knowledge of it yet," she replied. "I intended to restore their memories to them, but . . . You're all so young, still. It seemed cruel to cut their childhoods short."

"Have you been talking to them like this, too?" he asked.

She shook her head no.

"Angeal doesn't have the same kind of connection to the Lifestream as you do—Genesis, maybe, but he's not ready to get in touch with those powers yet."

There was so much he wanted to ask. And there was so much she definitely wasn't going to tell him.

"You only meant to tell me about being reincarnated," said Sephiroth. It wasn't a question, but a statement.

She looked regretful.

"There's only so much I can tell you," she said. "I can lead you to the answers, but . . . You've got to pick them up for yourself. They're in your own memories, and those are locked away tightly, I'm afraid. . . . I believe it's something of a coping mechanism on your part."

He dreaded to know what would be so terrible that he would subconsciously suppress all of his memories. If Genesis and Angeal were also the same in that regard, their pasts must have been filled with the same amount of horror, as well.

"You're waking up," said the girl lightly, and Sephiroth finally noticed how the world seemed to be growing paler around the edges of his vision. "I suppose it's about time I introduce myself, isn't it? It's only polite, after all."

For a second, Sephiroth thought he saw a patch of white water lilies among the golden grasses, and the girl smiled and said—

"I'm Aerith Gainsborough, it's nice to meet you!"

When Sephiroth opened his eyes for a second time in twelve hours, it was morning. Pale light was shining through the hospital windows, onto the white cotton sheets. He could see Harry across from him, looking much healthier than he was several hours ago, his mop of thick, dark hair stark against the bedding. There were piles of gifts and bags of candy on the bedside table. A couple of them were wrapped in colorful paper that looked like joke shop material, and Sephiroth suspected they were from Fred and George.

Feeling disoriented from his sudden unusual sleeping pattern, Sephiroth made to get up. He was accosted by Madam Pomfrey, who ordered him back into bed _or else_. Seeing as he wasn't fond of being stuffed full of potions that made him drowsy, Sephiroth refrained from testing her patience. Madam Pomfrey smiled and placed a platter full of food on a table next to his bed, a wordless order that he wasn't about to disobey.

After a couple minutes of watching Madam Pomfrey flit around the hospital, checking cupboards and marking down stocks of potions she needed refilled in bulk, Sephiroth started to grow bored. The night before still weighed heavily on his mind, but after sleeping and eating (not to mention the sheer amount of calming potions Madam Pomfrey had him consume—he was practically stoned), it all felt like a distant memory that lingered on the edges of fantasy and reality.

Except it wasn't a dream and he had, apparently, been reborn into this life from a previous one. And there was no one to give him answers anymore, barring his own memories, which were locked away in some place he couldn't reach. There was that other person Aerith Gainsborough (he was glad to finally have a name to call her by) referred to, but Sephiroth had literally no way of finding him. The only thing he had to go off of was that the person was male, which was nothing at all.

Madam Pomfrey released him, with great reluctance, two hours later. She was grumbling under her breath about Quidditch and seemed to have some choice words to say about Professor McGonagall, which was confusing because they had seemed amiable to each other in the past. As soon as Sephiroth stepped out of the hospital, he was accosted by Genesis, Angeal, Ron, and Hermione, all of whom he expected had more or less camped outside for the entire night.

"We're saved!" shouted Ron.

"Shush, Ronald!" snapped Hermione. Then she turned concerned eyes to Sephiroth. "How are you feeling? What happened? Is Harry alright? What happened to the Stone?"

Sephiroth's head was already spinning and it hadn't even been thirty seconds.

"Who needs to shush?" said Ron sourly.

"Let's go somewhere else," said Genesis imperiously, dragging Sephiroth away in a truly spectacular fashion. The others gave yells of outrage and Angeal threw him a _you know better_ kind of look. Sephiroth was still counting how many of those specific Genesis-only _looks_ that Angeal had perfected.

"What really happened?" asked Angeal, once they'd all congregated in the courtyard.

Sephiroth opened his mouth—and then closed it again. He couldn't think of any way he could explain what happened inside the chamber that night. Aerith had told him to decide what he thought about his own actions, and he just couldn't. Not yet, at least. For now, all he could think was that those were the actions of a monster. Above all things, he didn't want to lose his friends. Because surely they wouldn't want to be around a monster for too long—right?

"Is the Stone safe?" asked Genesis.

Sephiroth nearly sighed in relief, feeling a surge of gratitude. Somehow, Genesis seemed to understand.

"Yes," he said.

"And Voldemort isn't coming back?"

"Definitely," said Sephiroth bitterly.

Ron and Angeal threw him questioning looks, but he said nothing.

"Then that's all that matters," said Genesis, nodding. "You and Harry are safe, the Stone is safe, and Voldemort's been thwarted. All in a day's work, right?"

"No, that's _not_ right!" Hermione burst out. She was so frustrated her face was turning red. "You all— _boys_. It's _not_ alright! Clearly Sephiroth is terribly bothered by something that happened! We can't just ignore it! What kind of friends would we be, if we pretended nothing was wrong and never tried to help each other?!"

"I'm not one for talking feelings," said Ron with a slightly disgusted expression, "but . . . she's right, mate. We're all friends. Whatever's bothering you . . . don't hold back on us."

"You should never bottle those kind of things inside," said Angeal in agreement.

Genesis said nothing, but Sephiroth supposed that was telling enough.

So he told them everything. Genesis's expression when he heard about Quirrell having Voldemort's face on the back of his head was amusing, but Sephiroth couldn't bring himself to laugh. Hermione looked terrified through the entire thing, right up until he got to the end—and his voice seemed to get stuck in his throat. For a half second, his mind flicked through excuses to get out of relating the last bit of what happened to them. Perhaps they should wait for Harry, or they should move somewhere else, less public.

"I killed Quirrell," he said, and his heart dropped, because that wasn't how he was supposed to say it. He couldn't seem to stop talking, though, the words tumbling out in a frantic torrent. "I was so—so _angry_ and I couldn't stop . . . there was this sword, I've never held a sword before, but it felt like it was supposed to be there—he just stood there, I was too fast or he was too slow, I don't know which—I hated him _so much_ and I just . . . killed him."

And because Sephiroth didn't want to see their faces after what he had just said, he covered his eyes with his hands, as if it would ward off the real world.

"I know we went down there to protect the Stone, we had to fight Quirrell and keep Voldemort from coming back, I keep telling myself that, but . . . Was it wrong? Should I have tried harder to stop myself? Did I do the right thing? Was he better off gone?"

A pair of hands gripped his wrists and pulled his own hands away from his face. If he had wanted to, he could have pushed Genesis away, could have stopped him. Even though they might not want to be his friends any longer, he trusted them.

Ron was wide-eyed and Hermione looked pale, while Angeal was looking anywhere but at him.

"The Stone is safe and Voldemort is gone," said Genesis firmly. "That's all that matters."

He glanced back the others, sharp and quick. (Sephiroth didn't notice the look).

"Right?" he hissed.

Ron and Hermione nodded quickly, too stunned to reply.

"Of course," said Angeal.

"Does . . . does Harry know?" asked Hermione timidly.

"He was awake the entire time," said Sephiroth numbly.

Harry had seen everything first-hand.

The grim moment was broken up by the arrival of Oliver Wood, who was panting and pale-faced, glancing from face to face, until he saw Sephiroth. His eyes lit up and he grabbed Sephiroth's shoulders, giving him a firm shake.

"You're all healed up? Good, come along. We need you."

Sephiroth was so nonplussed by the sudden intrusion, he could only allow himself to be pulled along for a couple paces. It might have also had something to do with all of the calming potions that were still in his system. Eventually, his mind caught up with his body and he dug his heels into the ground like stubborn basset hound.

"What do you need me for?" he asked warily.

The only thing Wood cared about enough to be so urgent was Quidditch, and Sephiroth didn't do broomsticks. Everyone knew that.

"Potter's in the Hospital and the game's in a couple hours," said Wood, on the verge of a panic attack. "We need these points—"

"Do we really? We're in the lead," said Sephiroth.

"But if we have to win this game!" said Wood, waving his arms about wildly. "We've won every game this year and I don't want to break the pattern now!"

"What does that have to do with me?" asked Sephiroth.

Wood turned around and clasped his hands around Sephiroth's shoulders again, looking him in the eyes.

"We need you to be our Seeker."

"Absolutely—"

"Oh, good! Let's get some last-minute training in before the game starts!"

" _What?!_ That is _not_ what I was going to say! Absolutely not— _not!_ "

That was about when Fred and George rounded the corner of the hall Wood was dragging him down, and Sephiroth realized he might as well resign himself to playing a game of Quidditch. Once they saw him, it was all over. They threw their arms around his shoulders, which was as awkward as ever due to the fact they were much taller than he was, giving grins that bordered on maniacal.

Hope sprang up as Sephiroth remembered two others who were _perfectly fine_ at flying, who didn't have the same reservations as himself.

"Just get Genesis or Angeal to fill in the spot," Sephiroth borderline whined as he was pulled toward the Quidditch Pitch. He didn't completely whine, though, because he would like to retain some level of dignity. "Half the time Genesis spotted the Snitch before Harry did, he'll be a better reserve Seeker than me—"

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Sephiroth clearly remembered Harry diving for the Snitch before Genesis pointed it out.

"That's not nearly so fun," said Fred.

"Imagine—having our own mascot on the field!"

"Simply indescribably lucky on our parts."

"I—am— _not_ your mascot!"

* * *

Sephiroth was going to die.

Well, no, that wasn't true. He was going to fly around a couple laps, and then he was going to pass out and die. It was probably from embarrassment, or might have been from nerves. He thought it was understandable, giving how the Ravenclaws seemed to be aiming specifically for _him_ with their Bludgers. The entire school knew how his physical abilities were greater than the average student, or human in general. As such, the Ravenclaw team seemed to think they'd have a better chance at winning if they knocked him unconscious early on.

They were right, of course, but that didn't mean he would be easy to hit.

Before the match had even started, Genesis jokingly told him that he would pick the flower arrangement for his grave carefully. Angeal had smacked him upside the head (as a part of their brotherly-friendship-thingy-thing ritual—Sephiroth didn't know, he and Harry never argued as much as they did). Hermione advised him not to worry too much about Harry and focus on the game, that Harry was in good hands and Madam Pomfrey would have him up and about in no time at all. So really, he needed to focus on the game because Gryffindor _needed_ those points. (They didn't, not really).

All of their words seemed to boil down to one thing: focus on something other than what he had been obsessing over the entire day. Whatever the case, he didn't want to let them down, not after he laid all the darker thoughts that had been chasing themselves around in his head on them. So he determinedly set on attempting to make sense of the Quidditch rules, facts, and stratagems that Wood spouted at record speed in Sephiroth's general direction. At some point he had pulled out a black board, Sephiroth didn't know where he got it from, and started marking down key points and making him repeat them.

If he ever heard someone say Quidditch was a simple, dumb-man's sport—Sephrioth might just punch them. Or make them play the game and decide for themselves if it was for idiots.

Gryffindor won the match within record time, purely because of the fact Sephiroth couldn't stand being in the air for too long. He spotted the Snitch, heavens help any idiot who tried to get between him and his way out of the game, and then caught it. The students in the stands were left reeling with surprise, having only just started to really get into the game, while Sephiroth practically dropped off his broom from twenty feet in the air, to the ground.

"I really don't get you," said Oliver Wood as they filed to the changing room and Sephiroth hung up his borrowed uniform for the first, and last, time. "You don't like heights, but it's okay to drop to the ground from so high up?"

Sephiroth never claimed to be logical, but Wood looked so confused he didn't have the heart to leave him stewing in his questions.

"I just don't like flying brooms," he said. "It's not the heights or even the flying part, I guess. It's just the brooms."

Sephiroth could remember Neville's broom going haywire. Harry's incident had been because of Quirrell, but still—it was on a broom. He supposed it was foolish, but that didn't change the fact he didn't like flying on brooms.

"They're temperamental and who knows when your broom will go spastic," said Sephiroth.

"So you'll drop from fifty feet and—walk away just fine?" said Angelina Johnson, raising an eyebrow. She looked very unimpressed.

Sephiroth flushed lightly.

"Well . . ."

" _Well_ you could probably drop from higher and be just fine," snorted Genesis—and how did he get in there?

Sephiroth didn't bother asking. Genesis always seemed to go where he wanted, heedless of the consequences.

"We're headed to the common room for the party," said Genesis. "Fred and George are hosting it again."

How on _earth_ did they do that? Sephiroth had watched the twins the entire time, they hadn't left the Gryffindor team even once. There was no way humanly possible for them to have left and started a party up in the common room while they walked from the Quidditch pitch to the changing rooms. Fred and George, perceptive as they were, immediately picked up on his baffled expression and took some pity on him.

"Lee went ahead and got it started," said Fred.

"He's reliable like that," said George.

Sephiroth nodded in understanding. Then he remembered Lee Jordan had been doing the commentary again, so it was all but impossible for him to have gotten to the common room, too. He gave up on trying to make sense of it at that moment and settled for believing Fred and George had secret powers of their own. It was the only way to explain how they seemed to be everywhere at all times.

"There'll be plenty of food," said Genesis, in a tone of a voice that was clearly supposed to mean something important. He was giving Sephiroth a pointed look. "You coming?"

"No, I think I'll visit Harry," said Sephiroth. "Maybe he'll have woken up."

" _Food_ ," Genesis repeated.

"Yes, I heard," said Sephiroth irritably. "My mind doesn't revolve around my stomach, believe it or not."

The others were staring at him, completely bemused.

"That's news to me," said Genesis, giving a quiet laugh.

"If you'd pull your head out of your books—sorry, _book_ ," said Sephiroth, and felt almost good to bicker with him again, for the first time in what felt like an age.

They paused to wave to the Gryffindor team, Sephiroth ignoring the way Fred and George were wiggling their eyebrows (what did that even _mean_?), and how Genesis suddenly lunged back to throw a fireball. He dragged Genesis out by his collar, unwilling to witness another fight, and since Angeal wasn't there at the moment, he was forced to take the role of mediator. By the time they reached the courtyard, Genesis had calmed down and was no longer spewing unflattering comments about the twins.

Sephiroth gave a sigh of relief when they stepped inside the shadows of the castle, significantly cooler than outside. The sun was no less blistering than it had been a couple days ago, when they went down the trapdoor. If anything, the temperature seemed to have gotten even higher. They had yet to hit the peak of summer, meaning the temperature would only climb. Unlike the other students, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal hadn't burned or developed tans of any kind. Their fast healing was to thank for that, although it made Sephiroth look even more ghostly in sun.

"Harry probably won't be waking for a couple days," said Genesis. "Are you sure you're not going to eat anything?"

He was starting to sound like Hermione and Madam Pomfrey. Sephiroth gave him a sour look.

"Don't give me that," protested Genesis with a scowl. "Whatever, I'll go round up the others, they're all worried about Harry, too. Maybe Madam Pomfrey will let us bring in some snacks."

Sephiroth thought that was about as likely as Snape developing a cheerful personality. She was stickler for cleanliness in her hospital and he was fairly sure Madam Pomfrey was allergic to crumbs.

"Aren't they enjoying the party?" he said doubtfully.

"Not for long," said Genesis bright smile.

They started for the common room. Sephiroth would never admit it, but he was glad the others were going to come with him. He had a feeling that Genesis understood, though. Out of all of them, he seemed to know exactly what to say and when to say nothing, as if he was already sure of what the people around him felt. Maybe that was why Sephiroth was tempted to tell him everything right then and there. He might have, but the sudden thought that he would only have to retell the exact same story to everyone else all over again stopped him.

"Genesis, there's something . . . that I need to tell you and Angeal," he said, before mentally kicking himself. He couldn't be any vaguer. It was Genesis's role to be theatrical, not his. "It's kind of crazy."

"Crazier than anything else you've told us?" said Genesis, glancing over his shoulder, unconcerned. "What is it?"

"It's hard to explain, I'd rather wait until Harry wakes up," he admitted.

"What? You can't just dangle that in my face and then not tell me," Genesis protested. "Tell me!"

"You're making me regret saying anything at all," said Sephiroth flatly. "I'm not telling you, and then everyone else, and then Harry. That's _three times_. Why would I do that?"

"I guess that is a bit time-consuming," said Genesis with a frown. Then he shook his head, somewhat resembling an angry dog. "Wait, I take that back. You've got nothing _but_ time on your hands, school is over! So _tell me_!"

Genesis pestered Sephiroth all the way up through the corridor, down the stairs, and as they made their way through another series of hallways to get to Gryffindor Tower. It was somewhat like having a particularly annoying red cardinal giving out little _chip-chip_ sounds and dive-bombing his head. Except the red cardinal could speak words and spew fire. Sephiroth had so many regrets at the moment, he couldn't even begin to number them.

He decided this would be the last time he rambled about anything. No more rambling, a bad habit he had picked up from who-knows-where, which usually ended with him saying a few (or more) foolish things. Half the times he ended up putting his foot in his mouth was because the filter between his mouth and brain was dysfunctional. And now it had resulted with him suffering Genesis's curiosity.

When they arrived at the Gryffindor common room, the party was in full-swing, but Hermione, Ron, and Angeal were missing. Sephiroth stopped long enough to grab a plate of brownies (so maybe he was a little hungry after all), before they left to look for the other three. It took them nearly around thirty minutes to find them, because Hermione, Ron, and Angeal had also been looking for Sephiroth and Genesis. Somehow the entire process turned into a monkey chasing the weasel situation.

Their efforts were in vain, though. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't even let them in the Hospital Wing, under the claims that her patients were sleeping and their noise would distract from her work. She sent them away, but not before she scolding Sephiroth for his unbalanced meal. Sephiroth saw nothing wrong with making a meal out of chocolate brownies. Madam Pomfrey didn't think he was very funny.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Genesis had told the others that Sephiroth was keeping something from them.

Let it be said, Hermione was frightening when she wanted to know something. Sephiroth escaped by the skin of his teeth, shuddering from flashbacks of when she convinced Hagrid to give them more information about the traps protecting Flamel's stone.

His feet carried him in the direction of the Hospital Wing almost subconsciously, which was definitely a novel experience, considering how he'd spent most of the year trying to keep out of the hospital. It had been a day of firsts, though—from flying in a game of Quidditch, to finally learning Aerith's name. He might be able to visit Harry for a short while and hopefully, by the time he returned, Hermione would have given up on ferreting answers from him.

Footfalls alerted him to someone hurrying up the corridor. Unwilling to be subject to the wary, sidelong glances of the other students (something that had only gotten worse since waking up in the hospital), Sephiroth quickened his pace.

"Crescent!"

It was Malfoy, irritable as usual, except he looked as though he just ran a marathon. Either that, or he took a casual stroll in the sun. He was out of breath and his face was flushed.

"Will you stay in one place for longer than five minutes?" he panted. "I've been following you since the match ended."

Sephiroth wondered if Malfoy knew how much that statement made him sound like a stalker. When he thought back, Genesis had seemed to be walking a lot faster than normal. He must have known Malfoy was behind them the entire time.

"Did you want something?" asked Sephiroth.

"Well, not really," Malfoy admitted. "Mostly I wanted to tell you to tell your friends—"

Because apparently Malfoy was allergic to talking to Genesis and the others, Sephiroth thought dryly.

"—that they should talk about things in more private settings," said Malfoy. "Such as, _not_ in the courtyard."

As if the day couldn't get anymore complicated, Malfoy must have overheard their conversation in the courtyard. Sephiroth hoped he hadn't heard too much, but his luck never seemed to win out in the end.

"I didn't hear much," Malfoy went on (Sephiroth translated this to " _I heard everything._ "). "But . . . well, I think I get the gist of it. And your mopey face is getting annoying."

"Excuse me?"

Sephiroth suddenly wanted to punch Malfoy, a feeling usually reserved for Genesis.

"You were going about it the wrong way," said Malfoy, growing serious. "Asking if what you did was wrong, I mean. Not that I know what you did, of course—"

He broke off with a smirk that was probably not supposed to look so nervous.

"But you're asking _them_ if what _you_ did was wrong. It's not up to them," said Malfoy. "No one can tell you what's wrong or right, besides the obvious, but that's different."

He ran a hand through his slicked back hair, doused with far too much product. Sephiroth could smell the copious amounts of hair gel he used.

"What I'm trying to say is that you've got to decide if you're alright with what you did," he said. "If it was justifiable or not is your opinion. Whether you're willing to do it again—not that I know what 'it' is, of course—or not."

"Decide for myself?" echoed Sephiroth. That was what Aerith had said, as well.

"Yes," snapped Malfoy. "You _can_ think for yourself, can't you?"

There was far too much turmoil in his mind to retort. It was inexplicable, considering how obvious Malfoy's statement was, that he feel so elated. Briefly, his mind went to his rebirth, a previous life he knew nothing about, and wondered if he had been out of control. Perhaps the reason he snapped back there, was so furious, was to lash out at how little control he once had over his own life. Faced with the choice, he still wasn't sure what he would do if he found himself in the same circumstance. He didn't know if he would kill or not, but if it was to save the lives of his friends, his brother—he wasn't sure he liked what he might do.

Some part of him knew that if had to choose, he would become a real monster if it meant protecting Harry, without a single hesitation. _After all, if he could kill once—he could do it again. And again_.

"Why?" asked Sephiroth, a general question with no single inquiry. It was directed more at the world around him, at Aerith, who was no doubt listening in, then it was at Malfoy.

Malfoy didn't know that, though, and answered.

"You look annoying when you're depressed," he said defensively. "Don't go thinking we're friends. It's just annoying. You are."

"You've already said that a couple times," said Sephiroth baldly.

"And I said it again," Malfoy shot back.

Sephiroth was reminded of the night they arrived at Hogwarts for the first time, when Malfoy had sharply informed him of his strangeness. (He hadn't expected a "thank you" then, and he didn't expect Malfoy's friendship now). And maybe that was why he couldn't help a smile, breaking into soft laughter.

Malfoy looked just as confused as he did back then.

"You're still very weird," he said.

Sephiroth's smile widened a little.

"I know."

It wasn't a perfect day, but—it wasn't terrible, either.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, so this chapter kind of wouldn't shut up. It's the** _longest_ **that I've ever written, and that's after proofreading and trying to shorten it.**

 **I really hope I got Sephiroth's conflict and reaction to killing, because even though he's secretly a battle-worn badass-he doesn't know that yet. I'm not sure I captured that... Hopefully I gave Sephiroth's character some justice.**

 **Next chapter is the last of the first year! That means I really need to start working on the second year more seriously! (*nervous laughter*). I very crappily articulated my intention to take break AFTER finishing the first year, too... So yeah, one more chapter, and then a break! (Well, not really a break.. I'm stockpiling chapters). ... I'm an idiot, I know.**

 **Lotusballz: You made me laugh my ass off XD Thanks for all your encouragement, too! I really hope Edelweiss will live up to Lotus. (But seriously, writing a ten-year-old going batshit was WAY too fun, lol!).**

 **Thank you for all the follows, favs and reviews! It makes me happy to know you guys are enjoying this. :D**

 **Edit: There was an error where the story alert didn't show up. Sorry about that.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Edit: Edelweiss is up!**

* * *

18

The following day, Harry regained consciousness. Sephiroth and the others had eagerly rushed to the hospital, only to be turned away by Madam Pomfrey, who was outraged at the thought of them all visiting at once. He didn't know why she was acting like they had dragged the entirety of the Gyffindor house with them. Granted, Fred and George had tagged along as well, which meant Lee Jordan also accompanied them. Oliver Wood was worried about his team's Seeker, so he trailed after them as well. (Following him was the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, along with some fans, and a couple stragglers who thought there would be free food).

Madam Pomfrey was apoplectic.

"Absolutely not! Out, out, all of you!" she ordered sharply. "He's in no condition for visitors, let alone half of the student populous!"

"But—" started Hermione, but Madam Pomfrey steamrolled over her.

"No buts!" she said shrilly. " _Out!_ "

They heard Harry's voice in the background, lightly muffled from the white privacy curtain around his cot, plaintively asking Madam Pomfrey for just five minutes. She wavered, then gave a longsuffering sigh.

"Alright—but only you five!" she said quickly, before the others could celebrate. "The rest of you, clear out! I'll not have you crowding around the entrance—is that a table? Just what were you planning to do?!"

The others shuffled away speedily, while Genesis, Angeal, Hermione, Ron, and Sephiroth pushed onward to Harry's bedside. He still looked a little pale and despite all the time he had spent sleeping, there were shadows under his eyes. Even so, he was delighted to see them. Genesis and Hermione immediately launched into conversation, just managing to reign themselves back from being overbearing, as Madam Pomfrey had told them to. Ron threw in bits here and there, Angeal cutting in when his exaggeration went too far.

Sephiroth hung back behind the others, almost afraid to look Harry in the eyes. He didn't want to know what he would find in his brother's expression, the things might have changed after witnessing everything that day. Harry watched firsthand as Sephiroth lost all control of his anger and became something less than human. He might not even want Sephiroth around anymore, because the memories were too disturbing. Or perhaps he just wouldn't want a monster for a little brother.

"What are you lurking around back there for?" asked Genesis, forcibly yanking him forward, directly into Harry's line of sight. Sephiroth immediately lashed out when Genesis hooked an arm around his neck, greatly unappreciative of the gesture. "Anyway, we heard most of the story from Sephiroth, but what happened before he went all grasshopper and jumped over the flames?"

"Grasshopper?" Sephiroth spluttered in outrage.

"Well, not quite," said Genesis. "Your legs are too stubby."

Sephiroth aimed a kick at Genesis's face with his "stubby" legs, and scowled when his target just barely evaded him.

"Too short to kick high—"

Sephiroth launched at him. Angeal pulled them apart before they could break anything important and risk Madam Pomfrey's wrath.

Once they calmed down enough to keep from tearing each other apart, Harry recounted what happened before Sephiroth jumped over the fire barrier. He hadn't seemed to have missed much, other than watching Quirrell unravel his turban and reveal that he had, more or less, set everything up to be framed on Snape. It had been somewhat of a clever plan, giving how Snape cared little for children and even less for containing in his foul temperament.

"So it was _Snape_ doing the countercurse?" said Ron incredulously. He shook his head in disbelief. "Didn't think the git had it in him."

"We pretty much already knew that," Angeal pointed out. "They couldn't both be casting curses at Harry. He'd have died for sure."

Harry didn't look pleased with that thought.

"Maybe the curses could have canceled each other out, and they were fighting for dominance?" said Ron.

"That's outlandish and stupid, Ronald," said Hermione. "Curses don't work that way."

"Don't hold back," Ron mumbled sarcastically.

"Dumbledore came to talk to me," said Harry, interrupted before they could start bickering. "He said the Stone's going to be destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Genesis. "They're going to destroy a magical artifact that's hundreds of years old?"

"That nearly brought back the darkest wizard of all time, yeah," said Harry.

"Flamel's just going to die?" said Ron.

The stone they had all risked their lives for, fought Voldemort for, that Sephiroth had snapped and _killed_ for, was going to be destroyed. It might have been petulant of him, but he couldn't help but feel incredibly aggravated at the news. If he had known it was going to end like this, he would have demanded they destroy it from the beginning.

"Dumbledore thinks that—what was it?—'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure'," Harry was saying to Ron.

Sephiroth almost choked at the irony. 'The next great adventure' indeed. He could have laughed, were he not so miffed over the Stone's destruction. He would acknowledge, however, that it was probably for the best. If Angeal, Genseis, and he were all reborn, there was no telling the limit of rebirth. For all he knew, all people were reincarnated after death.

Would that make the next great adventure, childhood?

"Sephiroth," said Harry suddenly..

His vocal cords seemed to have stopped functioning.

"You . . . told them about it all?" said Harry, his fingers twisting through his covers.

Sephiroth could tell he was choosing his words with special care.

"I really don't know what to make of it," Harry confessed with a helpless kind of smile that made Sephiroth want to flinch back. Harry still looked very pale, probably having something to do with the horrible images that were flashing around in his head. Sephiroth would know, because even if the others had helped him move on from the worst of it—it didn't stop him from remembering. "You kind of just . . . broke, I think."

Hermione seemed to be growing slightly alarmed with the turn of conversation.

"We've all talked about it," she said, "and while we weren't there—"

"You weren't there," Harry interrupted. "You didn't see it."

A frigid kind of numbness was spreading through Sephiroth's body. Of course Harry would take it worse than the others, they hadn't been in the chamber. They hadn't watched him slice Quirrell apart limb from limb, without hesitation or mercy or the slightest bit of remorse. Because for a second there, Sephiroth had really wanted Quirrell (wanted _Voldemort_ ) dead. He wanted them gone and never coming back.

"Look," said Genesis, short-tempered. "I get it was disturbing, but Seph—"

"He cut a man up into pieces," said Harry, sounding almost despondent. "I could do nothing, I was _helpless_ , when my own little brother got his hands dirty. I went in there to face him—Voldemort would have _won—_ and I didn't do a thing!"

Sephiroth watched him in dismay. That wasn't how it was supposed to go—Harry wasn't supposed to blame himself. Sephiroth had expected disappointed eyes, even fear, but Harry had nothing to be ashamed of. It was worse than bearing all the responsibility, watching him succumb under the shame and guilt of failure. He hadn't failed at anything, it wasn't his fault Sephiroth couldn't stop whatever monster lurked in the back of his mind.

"Harry," said Angeal, giving his shoulder a shake. "That's not helping."

"I know, I know," said Harry—and were those _tears_? Sephiroth felt horrified. "Dumbledore already talked to me about it, actually. He was afraid I'd be angry at you."

Harry let out a small laugh, entirely absent of anger or bitterness, and shocking Sephiroth a good deal.

"He also said not to blame myself," he continued. "That it's 'out of our hands'."

"Harry . . ." Sephiroth started, but his voice trailed off. He couldn't think of what to say. _I'm sorry_ didn't seem right. Apologizing meant he would strive to never do something like that again, and he wasn't sure if that was the case yet.

Harry reached out with a startling amount of speed, pulling Sephiroth down into a hug. It was the first hug they had shared in a while and Sephiroth curled up at his side like a contented cat, because he liked affection—craved it, even. In their cupboard, they had spent the long hours of complete loneliness huddled up together, and it had been far too long since they did that last. The air in the hospital was a lot dustier all of a sudden, Hermione's rubbing at her eyes attesting to the fact.

Ron grumbled something under his breath. Angeal stomped heavily on his foot.

If Sephiroth could freeze that moment, live it forever, he could have spent the rest of his life in happiness. Eventually Harry pulled away, but the smile on his face held none of the resentment or hesitancy that Sephiroth anticipated when he walked into the Hospital Wing.

They stayed for much longer than five minutes, or even ten or fifteen. It wasn't until half an hour had passed, and Ron recounted Sephiroth playing Quidditch ("I can't believe I missed it!"; "I think he broke your record, though."), that Madam Pomfrey finally put her foot down and made them leave. Although, she was almost regretful as she did so, informing them that Harry would be well enough tomorrow for them to stay longer. Genesis claimed it was because Sephiroth and Harry had infected her.

"Just because you can't appreciate a heartfelt moment . . ." seethed Hermione. " _Urgh_ , boys."

"In case you've forgotten, don't worry, we all forget things occasionally," said Genesis, "but Sephiroth is also a boy. So is Harry. The latter's easier to remember, though."

One of these days, Sephiroth was going to stab Genesis in his sleep.

"I'll say it again," sniffed Hermione. " _Boys_."

"That's just a Genesis thing," said Angeal. "Don't lump us all in the same stereotype."

" _Angeal_ ," Genesis protested, sounding betrayed.

It was only after Sephiroth laid down to sleep, that he realized he had forgotten to tell everyone about the reincarnation thing. As soon as he'd walked in the hospital, his train of thought had somewhat crashed and burned, leaving him struggling to formulate complete sentences, let alone inform them of something life-changing. Well, Genesis wasn't pestering him about it, so he still had some time to think of a way to tell them that wouldn't make himself sound like a crazy person.

" _So, I've been hearing this girl's voice in my head—"_

Probably not the best way to start the conversation.

" _I was in this separate world in my head, and there was this voice—"_

Definitely not.

" _I've been having these weird thoughts lately_ —"

Yeah, no.

The next morning, Sephiroth felt somewhat like a zombie. His head was spinning with different ways to tell the others, specifically Genesis, whose reaction Sephiroth found the hardest to predict. Breakfast was a blurry assortment of foods that Sephiroth hardly remembered, before he trailed his way up to the hospital. He was glad Aerith had waited until after the school year was over to tell him—he would have never been able to concentrate on homework and the exams with it weighing on his mind.

As soon as he stepped into the Hospital Wing, Harry called him over eagerly. His eyes were shining with excitement, holding onto a thick, leather-bound book.

"Over here," he said. "Hagrid gave it to me. Look, it's my parents—"

Sephiroth peered over his shoulder, studying the rows of wizard pictures depicting a redheaded woman and a man with familiar messy hair. They were smiling and waving at them, occasionally spinning each other through a dance number, sitting at a desk and working on paperwork—any kind of random action they were caught in when the picture was taken. There was one image of Lily Potter disarming James, the two of them caught in a duel. He could see bits and pieces of Harry in the pictures. Lily's face and eyes, James's hair and bad eyesight.

Then Harry turned another page and Sephiroth's breath was stolen. Standing in a picture with two others that he didn't recognize, was a man with dark hair and crimson eyes. He was solemn, as always, hardly budging in the slightest when a man with curly black hair flung an arm around his shoulders. Still, there was a relaxed contentedness in his expression.

"It's him," he whispered, awed.

"What?" said Harry.

"It's _him_ ," he repeated. He pointed at the red-eyed man. "I saw him in the mirror!"

"No kidding?" gasped Harry, wide-eyed. "D'you think he's your dad?"

"I . . . don't know," Sephiroth murmured, afraid to hope. "We don't look too similar."

"It's kind of hard to tell with the scarf," said Harry, squinting at the man's features. "Maybe the eyes?"

"My eyes are green."

"The shape," Harry clarified quickly.

Sephiroth's eyes caught the glint of metal in the picture.

"He's got a prosthetic arm," he said.

"Is it a prosthetic arm?"

"I think . . .?"

They spent the better part of three hours scouring the pictures for anything related to the red-eyed man, trying to find any and all similarities between Sephiroth and him. Even though they found nothing, it wasn't possible for Sephiroth to feel anything other than joy. He had proof, solid evidence that someone from the family he had seen in the mirror once existed. The man had once gone to Hogwarts, learned the same things Sephiroth had.

By the time they stopped obsessing over the picture album, afternoon had passed and most of the day was over. Madam Pomfrey did one last check up on both of them, even though Sephiroth didn't need it. While she wanted to keep Harry longer, Dumbledore had allowed him to attend the end-of-year fest, so there was nothing to be done for it. She was pleased to tell Sephiroth his weight had gone into a healthier level, although he was still a little underweight, and he had grown two inches since the start of the year.

Sephiroth and Harry were nearly glowing with happiness when they arrived at the Great Hall. It was decorated in the red and gold of Gryffindor, as they'd won all the Quidditch matches and with Hermione's extra points, they were in the lead. For the first time in seven years, Slytherin wouldn't be winning the house cup.

They almost didn't notice the way everyone stopped talking when they walked in, but Sephiroth heard and the paranoid whispers managed to pull his head out of the clouds, much to his annoyance. They joined Ron, Hermione, Genesis, and Angeal at the Gryffindor table, while the other students attempted to go back to their lives. Sephiroth found it in vain, as several of them were actually raising out of their seats to catch a glimpse at them. One student from Ravenclaw, a boy with dark hair and wire-rimmed glasses, almost fell out of his seat trying to get a better look.

Genesis snorted.

"Potter, our new—celebrity," he said, in an excellent rendition of Professor Snape.

Sephiroth threw him a glare, which Harry mirrored. The candlelight reflecting off Harry's glasses made the glare far more ominous than it was intended.

"Another year gone!" came Dumbledore's voice, effortlessly stealing the students' attention from Sephiroth and Harry. "And I must trouble you with an old mans wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth in our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were . . . you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts."

Sephiroth found that unlikely. The lingering remains of the joy from earlier wilted even further when he remembered they would be returning to the Dursleys for the summer.

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two points; in third, Ravenclaw, with four hundred and twenty-six; Slytherin has four hundred and seventy-two and Gryffindor, five hundred and twenty-two."

Gryffindor roared with cheers, the other houses following. They had all been wanting to see Slytherin go down for once. Sephiroth watched Harry flush as several Gryffindor gave him pats on the back and grins, because their win had been thanks to his Quidditch playing.

"However, recent events much be taken into account," said Dumbledore, "and I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes . . ."

"First—to Mr. Genesis Weasley, Mr. Angeal Weasley, and Mr. Sephiroth Crescent . . ."

Sephiroth had the unique experience of watching Genesis's face go the color of a tomato. Then he realized his name had also been called out and he went red as well. Angeal was shuffling his feet, looking almost bashful.

" . . . for fighting off an army of angry chessmen and showing exemplary teamwork, I award Gryffindor house seventy-five points."

The Gryffindors let out loud hoots and cheers, because there was no such thing as too many points.

"And second—to Mr. Harry Potter . . . for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

So, after six years of holding the title of winning the house cup, Slytherin didn't just lose—they experienced a crushing defeat. The level of cheering and applauding, stomping on the ground and banging the tables had the entire hall shaking with pure energy. The candles seemed to be burning brighter, the enchanted sky trembling above them. Sephiroth watched Snape shake Professor McGonagall's hand, who was smiling like the cat who caught the canary.

"No hard feelings, Severus?" she said over the noise the students were making.

The smile Snape gave in return was nothing short of torturous.

Even the Christmas feast couldn't top the end-of-year feast. For once, Sephiroth could say with certainty that it would be impossible for him to eat everything. There was just too much food, too many different dishes covering the tables, which he was fairly sure had been enlarged to fit more. He was almost overwhelmed by the collision of aromas drifting through the air, different kinds of meats and sauces and things he couldn't name. He wanted to try a little of it all, but there were so many varieties that he couldn't. If he could have taken extra from the feast to eat over the summer, he would have—but he didn't know of a spell to preserve food.

They ended the feast with the arrival of their exam results. Sephiroth was speechless to find he had passed all of his subjects with high marks, even the subjects he hadn't studied for so much, like History of Magic. The only two in the first year who had higher marks was Genesis and Hermione. Hermione was poorly containing her beaming smile at having the highest marks in the entire first year.

Good marks, excellent feast, winning the house cup—the school year couldn't have ended on a better note.

"Well, if Goyle got thrown out," suggested Ron. "But I guess you can't have everything in life."

Next morning, the dormitories were emptied out and they were being packed onto the Hogwarts Express for their ride back into the world of Muggles. That was when Sephiroth remembered, yet again, that he needed to tell Genesis and Angeal about their reincarnation. He waited until they found a seat on the train and, feeling guilty that he was probably about to ruin the joyful atmosphere, resolved himself to tell them.

Somehow.

"Something wrong, Seph?" asked Harry.

"Um . . ." Sephiroth wracked his brain for inspiration. Anything to help him tell them in a way that didn't sound confusing. "Well . . ."

"Oh, right!" said Genesis, eyes lighting up. "You wanted to tell us all something. It sounded important. Go on, you've got no excuse to dodge explaining now, seeing as we're all here."

"You know those migraines I was having for a while?" said Sephiroth, and the truth came pouring out, about Aerith Gainsborough, his inner world, and lastly—

" _Rebirth_?" said Genesis, appalled. "We were reincarnated? From what?"

"I'm assuming we had past lives," said Angeal.

Sephiroth nodded.

"And memories to go with it," he said. "But . . . we'll have to remember on our own. Aerith can't give us our memories back."

 _If they even wanted to remember_.

"That's it, I'm done," burst out Ron. He curled up on his side and closed his eyes. "Wake me up when the world makes sense again."

Hermione was too shocked to scold him.

The only one who didn't seem like they were on the verge of a mental breakdown was Harry. When asked how he was so calm, he gave a sigh.

"It's Sephiroth, of course I'm not surprised," he said with a faintly amused grin. "I mean, reincarnation is . . . not what I was expecting, but . . ."

"What _were_ you expecting?" grumbled Genesis. He was scowling darkly. "Alien abduction?"

"Wouldn't it be human abduction?" said Hermione blankly, mouth working on autopilot. "Harry took in Sephiroth, not the other way around."

"I fail to see how that's important," sniped Genesis.

"Sorry, I'm just . . . reincarnation . . . logic and science . . ."

"You're going to a _magic_ school," said Genesis. "When did logic ever come into the equation?"

"But . . . but . . ." Hermione's brain seemed to have finally given out. "The implications—!"

"She wouldn't say why?" said Angeal, brows furrowed.

"No," Sephiroth replied quietly. "I . . . think she was worried about my mental health."

It was telling of how chaotic Genesis's thoughts were, that he didn't make a snide comment. They fell into silence, Hermione's mind visibly racing, Ron seemingly having fallen asleep. At the very least, the mood wasn't so much depressive as it was utterly befuddled. They couldn't seem to make up from down of anything Sephiroth had just told them.

Finally, Harry broke the silence. His eyes were fixed on Sephiroth, but he was lost in memory.

"You know . . . when I found you, you were covered in this green stuff," he said. "It was like acid—nearly burned my skin off, and you were vomiting it up for days. I thought you'd die for sure, it was terrifying."

Ron wasn't asleep at all, as it turned out.

"You found him?" he repeated.

Harry's mouth opened and closed, he glanced Sephiroth.

"I was in a back alley," said Sephiroth. "It was pure luck that Harry found me."

"We thought he was dead, my relatives wanted to call the police and be done with it," said Harry. "I convinced them to bring him home, though."

"We were left at the doorstep," said Genesis. "Angeal and I."

"There's so much that's missing," said Hermione, snapping out of her stunned daze. At their questioning looks, she elaborated. "It's obvious, right? Even if reincarnation is a normal thing, this circumstance clearly isn't. And seeing as though no one's ever truly remembered a "past life," we can say for certain regaining ones' memories is also not normal."

"We can deduce we're not normal for ourselves, thanks," snapped Genesis.

"That's not what I meant," sighed Hermione. "It's just—what are the odds? Harry just happens to find Sephiroth. Probably the only other wizard around, and Sephiroth's in the right alley to be spotted."

"Can you talk to Aerith at will?" asked Angeal. "She won't say anything?"

Sephiroth shook his head no to each of the questions.

"I hate to say it," said Hermione grimly, "but your . . . loss of control probably has something to do with it, as well."

"Maybe You-Know-Who killed you!" said Ron, wide-eyed. The others, including Sephiroth, blanched. "You lost it when you saw him, right? Well, maybe he killed you in your past life, and this Aerith whatserface is giving you the chance to have revenge!"

"Ron . . . that's ridiculous," said Hermione. "Even if that was true, if Voldemort killed him, it would have been around the last war. Most of the professor in Hogwarts fought in that war, so you'd think someone would recognize Sephiroth."

"You're assuming he looks the same," Ron countered.

Genesis, Angeal, and Sephiroth were looking back and forth between them as they argued.

"Why wouldn't he look the same? If he's got his memories, then it makes sense he looks similar, at least," she said. "You don't easily forget someone with hair going down to their ankles."

"Oi," Sephiroth protested weakly.

The rest of the train ride was spent pondering over their previous lives, coming up with wild, and sometimes humorous, theories that helped take the tension out of the air. By the time they arrived at King's Cross Station, Genesis was no longer scowling at every word out of their mouths, and Angeal had relaxed. Sephiroth felt light as feather as he stepped off the Hogwarts Express, figuring it most likely was because for the first time in what felt like forever, he no longer had some large secret resting on his shoulders. He still had nothing but unanswered questions, but for the moment, those could wait.

He had to wait behind a couple hundred other students to leave King's Cross Station. Since it would look odd to the Muggles, even with the hoodwinking enchantments and distraction charms, to have hundreds of students pouring out of the barrier, they had to walk out in groups comprised of no more than three. Passing a guard at the ticket booth, Sephiroth had to fight off the sudden urge to snicker. He had gotten passed the man without much issue nearly a year earlier.

"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron with excitement, "all of you—I'll send you an owl."

"That sounds wonderful," Sephiroth gushed.

It really did. Almost anything was better than staying at the Dursleys and spending the summer at Ron's house was like a ticket to an amusement park.

As the barrier drew closer, dread mounted in Sephiroth's stomach. They were getting nearer and nearer to the inescapable reunion with the Dursleys. He hadn't told them he was going with Harry to Hogwarts, due to the fear they might stop him out of spite. They were going to have more than a few words for him and that wasn't mentioning the chore list that was no doubt waiting for him back at the house. With both Harry and Sephiroth doing all the cleaning and cooking, the Dursleys did little to no work in their own house. They were practically servants.

Sephiroth's face must have been a little green, because Ron inquired if he was feeling sick.

"No," he said. "Just . . . not looking forward to the people waiting for us."

"They're that bad?" asked Hermione.

"I asked once, I'll ask again," said Genesis firmly, "are they abusive?"

Harry and Sephiroth quickly shook their heads. Neither of them were willing to open that can of worms.

"You two looked like they hardly fed you at the start of the year," said Angeal worriedly.

"Seriously, if they're abusive, I'll beat the hell out of them," said Genesis. "Just give the word. And a description. I'll push through the line _right now_ and do it."

They managed to convince Genesis not to plow ahead, although he hadn't stopped stewing with righteous anger by the time they arrived at the gate. Harry, Angeal, and Ron opted to go through first, for no reason whatsoever, so they claimed. Sephiroth knew it was because they wanted to make sure Genesis didn't do anything reckless while they were separated. Once they were through, Sephiroth, Hermione, and Genesis followed, slipping into the station with the Muggles being none the wiser.

As soon as they were through, Sephiroth heard Ginny Weasley's enthusiastic clamoring over Harry's appearance. He zeroed in on the ten year old girl, his own age, who was blushing something fierce as she watched Harry with clear admiration. She went onto his possible threats of the future list. (Unbeknownst to Sephiroth, Harry had a list that was exactly the same, only significantly longer).

Mrs. Weasley, a kind woman with a set of lungs to deafen the world, smiled at them as they drew closer. He remembered the large box of fudge she sent him for Christmas and offered a shy smile in return. Something about it had her cooing and pinching his cheeks, which was not appreciated—at all.

"Busy year?" she asked knowingly.

"Very," Harry replied. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, it was nothing, dear," she said.

Sephiroth could have heard the lumbering, heavy footfalls from a mile away. He looked up just as Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley came to a stop next to them. Vernon looked as though he had lost a little weight, and Sephiroth figured the year without their personal servants to cook or clean had done them some good.

"Ready, are you?" he asked behind clenched teeth.

"You must be Harry's family!" said Mrs. Weasley amiably, beaming.

"In a manner of spea—"

"So it's _you_ ," said Genesis, shoving in front of Mrs. Weasley and giving Vernon a sneer that would make Professor Snape proud. "You're Vernon Dursley."

"I am," said Vernon, his beady eyes narrowed.

Sephiroth didn't like where this was going.

"Hey, Seph, remember that Christmas present you got from them?" said Genesis.

"Present from the Dursleys—oh. Oh no," he mumbled. "Wait, Gene—"

It was too late. Genesis smashed his fist into Vernon Dursley's face, knocking him straight off his feet and down to the ground. Petunia and Dudley let out screams of surprise. He stood over the man, who looked dazed but was thankfully still conscious. (Or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it).

" _GENESIS!_ " Mrs. Weasley shrieked.

"Serves him right!" Genesis crowed triumphantly. "What kind of bastard sends his nephew a _hanger_ for Christmas?"

"A what?" said Mrs. Weasley.

"How about starvation?" suggested Angeal.

"We're not really starved," said Harry hastily, in a weak attempt to salvage the situation.

Sephiroth was downright horrified of what was going to happen when they made it to Number Four, Privet Drive, when no one was looking. They must have been furious as it was, having to drive up to fetch them from the station, let alone being punched in the face by one of their friends. Sephiroth and Harry were in for a summer of pure torture.

"It was a practical joke—done by our son," said Petunia, pale-faced and trembling, as she helped Vernon to his feet. "He's got a penchant for mischief, you see."

Mrs. Weasley looked as though she didn't believe them, but had no choice but to nod anyway.

"They're awful," said Hermione with a frown.

"Don't worry," said Harry, and Sephiroth was confused to see he was smiling. "They don't knew we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer. . . ."

Sephiroth brightened considerably.

"That's right, we can have them leave us alone, or _else_ ," he said with a grin. "And they're much too afraid of magic to test us."

"Well, I can't say I approve of your use of threats," said Hermione, arms crossed. "However, I do hope you can stay healthy and safe this summer. Do whatever you must, in that case."

Genesis grinned, slinging his arms around Sephiroth and Harry's shoulders.

"Hear that?" he said. "You've got Hermione Granger's stamp of approval. Don't hold back this summer!"

"That is _not_ what I said!" Hermione protested.

"Send an owl if things get too bad," said Angeal.

He was acting as though they were going to war, Sephiroth noted. Eventually they parted ways, Genesis and Angeal escorted away by Mrs. Weasley, who was still fuming over Genesis's actions earlier, while Hermione left with her parents. Sephiroth and Harry piled in the back of the Dursley's car with Dudley, who cowered away from them against the door opposite of them.

"First things first," said Sephiroth, trying to emulate Genesis's brand of imperiousness. "I want a hamburger. And chips."

Vernon went a nice shade of red.

"What?" he growled. "What the ruddy hell gives you the right-"

"How about all the nasty curses we learned?" said Harry, smiling pleasantly.

"So step on it," Sephiroth ordered.

Sephiroth and Harry exchanged a look, and then broke into grins of delight. Maybe the summer wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

 **A/N: So that was a lot of fluff. But it was the end of year one, so it has to have a good note, right? ...At least I think so. XD And just in case you thought you were mistaken, yes that was a wild Vincent Valentine spotted in Harry's photo album.**

 **The update schedule's a little off because of the error last week, but this chapter is actually a day late...technically. But it sort of counts as early, too. Kind of. Ok, not really. (I sat on this because I have a hard time with endings).**

 **Lotusballz: Writing is a hobby of mine, and Harry Potter and Final Fantasy VII are two fandoms I always return to, so it's been super fun! As for Cloud, yes, he will definitely have an appearance. Very soon. And it's cool you noticed that, because there is a reason Dumbledore allowed Sephiroth into Hogwarts, despite definitely knowing his age was wrong. But it's somewhat of a spoiler. XD ... Now I have the mental image of Sephiroth dreaming that he's tall, only to wake up and remember he's a midget...I might make an omake with that, lol!**

 **Guest: Yeah, writing Genesis and Draco was really fun...They can both be pretty dynamic characters. I felt bad for Seph, too...But I'm also something of a sadist to characters I really like, so I enjoyed that part as well.**

 **Thank you for all the reviews, favorites and follows! You guys are all awesome! :D**

 **And before taking off to party (I mean write chapters for Edelweiss) for two weeks, here's an omake for a Guest reviewer... Sorry it took so long!**

* * *

 _The Theme Song Makes the Bad-Ass_

It had been a couple days since the incident in the mirror chamber, and after everything was said and done, there was one last little detail Sephiroth had somewhat glossed over.

He had summoned a freaking sword out of thin air. He just _had_ to try that again.

Hiding behind a line of bushes outside Hogwarts, thanking all things holy for the cooler weather during evening, he concentrated on the feeling of the hilt in his hand. It was hard to remember, considering how what happened after kind of dominated over the sword. Eventually, the breakthrough moment occurred, and Sephiroth's eyes widened as the weapon seemed to literally weave itself together in his hand.

It was long, shining, the gently curving blade reaching out at least seven feet. He moved it through the air, a clean and easy slice-

 _Estuans interius_

 _Ira vehementi_

Sephiroth made a valiant attempt at ignoring the invisible chorus that seemed to be singing out of no where. He went to stab the edge of Masamune into the ground, but stopped. He remembered reading somewhere that dirt was bad for blades. Did that apply to Masamune as well?

 _Sephiroth!_

 _Sephiroth!_

His eye started twitching. It was hard enough to focus on Masamune while there was a chorus somewhere in the background (he didn't know how that was possible, but he knew better than to ask), but now they were singing his name.

His concentration slipped and Masamune disappeared. The chorus followed suit.

A theory formed in his head and he held his hand out again. Masamune formed, and then-

 _Estuans interius_

 _Ira vehementi_

"Would you stop?!" Sephiroth yelled in annoyance as he jumped again in surprise, dropping his sword. Masamune vanished again.

He didn't seem to realize that a really good song made a person even more of a bad-ass than they already were, nor did he seem able to recognize good music.

"And no one is fooled by your attempts at talking through the narration!" yelled Sephiroth.

If he kept yelling to himself, students passing by were going to think he was going insane. That wasn't even counting the professors, who were probably already concluding that he was a couple sandwiches short of a picnic.

"It's really not funny!"

Sephiroth grumbled to himself, deciding to once again attempt to summon Masamune. Hopefully this time, the chorus would stay well enough away. The last thing Sephiroth needed was getting his own theme song stuck in his head.

Masamune appeared in a flurry of green particles. The chorus started up with gusto, dramatically chanting in Latin and repeating Sephiroth's name several times. Sephiroth just stood there, Masamune in hand, and wondered if they had sung in the mirror chamber and he just didn't hear it at the time.

He let the sword disappear yet again, and then turned to walk away. Faces on the back of heads, mirrors showing hopeless dreams, and now a phantom chorus singing his praises. Nope, that's it-he was done.

Meanwhile, hiding behind the low stone wall next to the bushes, Fred and George snickered. They quickly sneaked away, a magically enhanced radio tucked under George's arm. Sephiroth would never know he had fallen victim to their prank.

"We did say we'd get back at him for that snowball fight."

* * *

 **So I don't know if that's what you meant (I kind of went crazy), but I hope you enjoyed!**

 **See you all in two weeks with Edelweiss! :D**


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